Obliviate
by maintje
Summary: After the War, Harry and his friends go back to Hogwarts. He didn't expect Malfoy to be flirting with him, nor his friends to find that completely normal. Is it true that he got hit with the Forgetfullness Charm? Or are his friends really playing a game? HPXDM Slash
1. Chapter 1: Prologue

**I know it's been too long! So much has been going on! I barely had the time to write, but I still managed to get you one chapter at the ready. I'm not as prepared as with the other stories, so I don't know if I'll be able to update regularly, but I'll try.**

**Enjoy.**

**PS. This is a Prologue. The story doesn't really start until the next chapter… Hope you like it!**

**Prologue**

_"We do not need magic to transform our world. We carry all of the power we need inside ourselves already."  
-J.K. Rowling- _

Hagrid felt hot against Harry's body. He could feel the muscles in the half-giants arms contract. Hagrid's entire body was shaking with tears, because he was convinced Harry was dead. Surprisingly, he wasn't.

For the second time in Harry's short life, he had survived the killing curse. Any normal human being wouldn't have survived it once. But Harry had never been normal. The dark-haired teen could still feel the spot where the curse had hit him. It sent a tingling, slightly burning sensation through his chest. But apart from that, he was feeling completely normal. He was confused, though. He had no idea how he had managed to become awake again. He remembered talking to Dumbledore, but he had no idea whether he had been dreaming whether it had been real. To be honest, he would have preferred staying there. It was peaceful. All his worries were gone. The only unpleasant thing in Kings Cross was the horcrux.

The small part of Voldemort had been lying underneath a bench. "_I think neither of us can help it." _Dumbledore's words resounded in Harry's head. Was that the reason why he had survived? Had Voldemort killed himself, yet again? All those years ago, the Killing curse had been reflected because of Harry's loving mother. A part of Voldemort's soul had latched itself to Harry. Now, it was gone. He would no longer be connected to the man who had killed his parents.

Harry was awake again, and all his worries had returned. The wounds he'd received during the war started aching again and the heavy pressure of killing Voldemort weighed down on his shoulders. But for right now, Hagrid was carrying him. His steady heartbeat thumped against Harry's ear. It soothed him. Even though they were surrounded by Death Eaters, Harry felt at ease. He was ready. More ready that he'd ever been.

"Hello, my friends," Voldemort's high voice spoke. Hagrid halted, and Harry realized they had reached the castle. He could hear some silent voices, but while Voldemort did his introduction, everyone went silent. "The time has come. It's time to surrender. _I_ will be your new leader." The audience remained silent. Nobody cheered. Nobody moved. From somewhere in the distance, a soft voice broke the silence.

"Is that Harry? No! It can't be!" Harry recognized that voice. It belonged to Hermione Granger. "Please Hermione. I'm not dead. Don't break down," Harry thought. He could only imagine what it must feel like to see one of his friends being carried by the Dark Side.

"NO!" Her defeated voice plunged through the silence, tearing Harry's heart up. It was hard to lay motionless in the arms of the man who'd always taken care of him. It was hard not to tell the people he loved that he hadn't died. But he had to wait.

* * *

The bushy haired woman was standing next to Draco Malfoy. The blonde wrapped an arm around her. "It's okay, Granger." Draco pulled the witch closer, fighting his own tears away. Someone who didn't know that Draco Malfoy had been romantically involved with Harry Potter would find this scene ridiculous, but the two students had become friends over the past year.

Draco looked at the lifeless body of the Boy Who Lived. His face was scratched up, dry blood on his lips. His hand hung over Hagrid's arm. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be real. Draco hoped somebody would get up and tell them they all had been fooled. _His _Harry couldn't be dead. He squeezed his eyes shut, demanding the tears to go away and opened them. But Harry Potter was still dead. He had never seen the Dark Lord so happy. Reality sunk into his brain. If the Dark Lord was convinced he was dead, there was no hope left. A cold wave clutched Draco's chest. His heart cramped together and a white pain spread through his veins. _Please! Anyone… This isn't real… This can't be… Harry!" _Draco's thought screamed for help, but his mouth remained shut.

"Harry Potter. Is dead," the Dark Lord continued. A cold, short laugh followed his statement. Draco could feel a wave of sorrow and disbelief go through the survivors. McGonnagal had sunken to her knees, crying, as Sprout tried to comfort her. Draco's lip trembled, but he couldn't let his guard down. He couldn't let anyone see what devastation the news had caused.

"Are there any volunteers? Draco?" Draco face went as pale as a sheet. His hands were shaking, his lungs were burning, but he stared right back into the vicious red eyes. His father nodded encouragingly and mother's face was blank. Draco avoided their gaze. He would not cross that line. For Harry's sake. Voldemort waited patiently. But instead of stepping forward, or speaking up, a voice drew the attention away.

"Harry Potter might be dead. But that doesn't mean we won't fight for him. He died for us. Now we have to finish his task," Neville Longbottom stepped forward, the Sword of Gryffindor in his hands. Draco's eyes focused on the Gryffindor, admiration boiling up. He'd never liked that boy, but right now, he said every word Draco was supposed to say. Draco felt ashamed for himself. How was it possible that Longbottom - who was afraid of his own shadow - spoke up, but Draco was unable to defend his own boyfriend? He was just a coward.

"And you are?"

"N-Neville. Longbottom," the man half-stuttered. The survivors of the war looked at him with admiration. Who could blame them? They were already mourning for Potter, while Longbottom all of a sudden gathered the guts to speak up to Voldemort. The thought latched itself to Draco's brain, like a poisonous substance, immobilizing his entire body. He could feel Granger sniff next to him. He looked back at the Chosen One, trying to stop his mind from going to the first time they kissed. His red lips were warm and soft. They tasted special. Like Harry. Tears blurred his vision as Draco tried to focus on the conversation.

"How are your parents?" Bellatrix shouted, an evil smirk on her face. Longbottom's strong glance didn't falter. But Draco was still looking at Harry. His hand twitched. A dead hand couldn't twitch. Could it? Instantly Draco was focussed. Granger noticed the change and shot him a questioning glance. Her eyes were still red, but clever as she was, she understood something was up.

"Give me what you got, Lestrange," Longbottom fired back, getting his sword ready.

* * *

This was the moment. Harry jumped out of Hagrid's arms. "Avada Kedavra!" He screamed. A green flash exited his wand, but he had to duck away for the dozen counter spells the Death Eaters were firing. He ran behind a pillar, while all the others were processing the new information. He looked for Draco and spotted the blonde mop of hair not far from the entrance to the castle. Relief washed over Harry. If Draco was okay, he could still do this.

For the first time in seven years, Harry understood what he had to do. He'd been ready to die in the Forest, and now he was ready to kill. He accepted his faith, a soft smile on his lips. He could do this.

Voldemort was livid, firing green spells all around. His white face was a mixture of anger, confusion and betrayal. His red eyes looked for the Boy Who Lived. He was not planning on letting that boy get away twice. Harry ran over the entrance courtyard into the castle. The entrance hall was deserted, as all the other people were outside, fighting the Death Eaters.

"Come on Tom," Harry said, "Let's end this like it started. Together!" Harry jumped forward, getting a hold of Voldemort just as he disapparated. The unpleasant tug behind his belly button felt familiar. Black smoke surrounded Harry, making it hard to breathe. His eyes were stinging, his skin was burning. Their bodies connected, uniting as one. A cold wave washed over Harry as he felt how Voldemort entered his mind.

Harry Potter was facing himself. He looked into red eyes. His mother's green eyes had disappeared. His skin moved, as if he had just taken Polyjuice potion. "We are one, Harry Potter." Voldemort said with Harry's mouth. The grin on his lips felt extraterrestrial. Harry shook his head. He didn't want Voldemort to be in his brain.

"Go away." Harry said. Harry's cracked his neck, rolling it over his shoulders. "This isn't real." A flash of emerald orbs could be seen. "You're not welcome, Tom." Harry banned the man out of his mind and let go of him. They Apparated in the Astronomy tower. Voldemort's long fingers had felt cold against Harry's skin. The Dark Lord was breathing heavily, something that didn't suit him. Harry had always thought the man was invincible. And as a matter of fact, he'd been invincible with the Horcruxes. Harry stepped away from the man, observing him with disgust.

Then he looked around the Astronomy tower, the memory of Dumbledore's death replaying behind his retina. Voldemort had taken him here on purpose. He should have known Voldemort would try to hurt him as much as possible. The memory of Dumbledore's twinkling blue eyes cut Harry open. Harry would do anything to bring the man back. He, least of all people, had deserved to die. Not like that. Harry tried to focus again. Dumbledore wouldn't want him to let his guard down. His friends were counting on him. Draco was counting on him.

Harry walked backwards, still keeping an eye on Voldemort. Harry knew Riddle was desperate to kill him. The Dark Wizard was nearing his end, and he aware of it. That was why he had summoned Harry to the Forbidden Forest. Not to spare lives. Voldemort didn't care about innocent people getting murdered by his Death Eaters. It was because he was getting weak. The time was ticking and Voldemort was scared. Harry could see it in his eyes. Emotions he would never have linked to that evil human being. Fear.

Harry turned around and headed for the stairs. He knew exactly what to do. He was ready to end this War, for once and for all. Voldemort was right behind him, firing another Killing Curse. The stairwell bathed in green light for a moment. A loud clap could be heard, followed by the noise of scattered rocks.

"Nice one, Tom. You killed a stone," Harry mocked. He walked backwards while smiling at the man who had tried to kill him five times already. His head was spinning, his hands were hurting, his entire body was screaming, but Harry kept grinning. Not because there was something funny, but because Harry was ready to take revenge for all the misery that man had caused. For all the sorrow he had made Harry go through in his life. Adrenalin rushed through his veins, a determined look in his eyes.

"Harry Potter. Running away like a scared little boy." Voldemort slithered behind him like a snake. They had reached the fifth floor. Harry wasn't intimidated.

"I'm not a boy anymore, Tom. And you've noticed that, didn't you?"

"It's not over yet, Harry Potter. I killed you once, I can do it again."

"No you can't. You tried to kill me. The curse hit me, but it didn't kill me. I just don't think you have it in you."

"Come here," Voldemort sneered, heaving his wand again.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

"EXPERLIARMUS!" A green and a red beam of light clashed against one another. For a moment, Harry feared the dead would appear again, but nothing happened. Harry's hand was shaking, trying to put as much power into the spell. He looked to the right quickly, spotting a shortcut staircase that led to the third floor. Harry broke the spell and started running, hoping to confuse Voldemort again. His heart was racing, but his head was well ordered. He needed to make Voldemort as tired as he could.

He reached the staircase, just as a spell flew by, barely missing his ear. "PROTEGO!" Harry screamed, when yet another spell tried to knock Harry of his feet. A barrier was formed between Harry and Voldemort. Harry stepped backwards carefully descending the stairs. His barrier faded again, as Voldemort shouted: "CRUCIO!" Harry jumped to the left, trying to avoid the Unforgivable. He smashed against the banister, knocking him over the edge.

For a moment, Harry felt paralyzed. It was as if he was falling down in slowmotion. He could feel the air whistling in his ears and slowly it downed on him. He had lost. The smack would kill him. All those thoughts passed through his head rapidly and just when he thought he was going to hit the ground, he remembered blue eyes and half-moon glasses.

"ARESTO MOMENTUM!" Harry's body was held up in the air, only three feet above the ground floor. The spell wore off, and Harry plopped onto the ground. He was breathing heavily, unable to move at the moment. Harry got up carefully, testing every limb to see if he had broken something. He looked around disoriented. Debris was scattered everywhere, and not far from the Great Hall you could see professor Flitwick fight alongside professor Trelawney. Harry had never really liked the Divination's professor, but right now, she looked more intimidating than he'd ever seen her.

He looked around and saw Voldemort coming nearer. Harry duck away for another Killing Curse and growled: "You might want to be careful with those, Tom." He hid away behind a pillar and held his breath. He was getting tired. He wanted to end this quickly now. Voldemort came closer, carefully looking for his prey. That's when Harry jumped out, and disapparated into the boat house.

They appeared again, and Harry saw he had caused the effect he wanted. Voldemort was slightly disoriented and Harry took advantage of the few seconds the Dark Lord needed to recompose himself. "Expeliarmus!" Harry screamed. Voldemort was a fraction of a second too late and his wand flew through the air, straight into Harry's hands. Harry wanted to give a shout of victory, but then Voldemort disapparated himself. Was this a trick? He appeared behind Harry, with a new wand. How had he done that?

"Harry, Harry, Harry. You are never going to win."

"I already did," Harry responded, preparing himself to duel.

"AVADA KEDAVRA," the two men shouted at once. The entire hall was bathing in the green light. Harry's wand shook heavily, but he held on to it, giving it all he got. His face was torn up in concentration. Voldemort's wand started to split. Then the green light hit the Dark Lord in the chest. The world stopped momentarily, as Harry was thrown backwards smashing his head against the debris scattered over what used to be the Hogwarts' floor. Stars appeared before his eyes, the last thing he saw was how Voldemort's face turned into ashes, and was reduced to nothing.

* * *

"What do we have here?" Lucius Malfoy questioned. Harry opened his eyes slowly, trying to get used to the light. He was disoriented, as his memory was slowly cathing up with him.

"Harry Potter. You think you have won, don't you?" the tall blonde man spoke. Harry looked at the man, frowning. Voldemort was dead, he should be fleeing. This made no sense.

"What's your problem, Lucius?" Harry asked confidently.

"_You _are my problem, Potter. The Whole World will soon find out how you killed Voldemort. But that's not what bothers me. You know what I'm talking about, don't you Potter?" Harry was still recovering from battling the Darkest Wizard of all times, and slowly got up, taking a defensive position.

"You want to kill me, is that it?" Harry asked tonelessly. Lucius Malfoy let out a barking laugh, and shook his head.

"No, Potter. I want you to stay away from my son." Instantly, realization struck. How had Lucius found out about Draco and him? "I can read from your face, Potter. You know very well what I'm referring too, don't you? Now, I don't want to hurt my son. I tried to change his mind, but he refuses to listen to me. So I came up with a solution."

"And that is? You won't change my mind either, Lucius. I love Malfoy and there's nothing you can do to change that." Again, Lucius laughed, short and high.

"Oh, Harry Potter. Mindless fool. You have no idea. OBLIVIATE!" Lucius pointed his wand to Harry's chest, as a white beam shot out of it. Harry's eyes widened in confusion. What was happening? The beam hit him straight in his heart, and Harry was thrown backwards.

He saw grey eyes looking at him. They had the most beautiful shade of silver Harry had ever seen. Lights were sparkling in them as his mouth curled up into a grin.

"You're a fool, Potter." Draco's voice broke the silence. Harry could smell his perfume as he leaned closer. His long slender fingers touched his shoulder and immediately set his arm on fire. His pink lips got closer as Harry's heart sped up.

Then the scenery changed. Draco dissolved into nothingness, and Harry was sitting in a classroom, next to the blonde. Draco was writing down some notes, while Harry was observing him.

"You need to pay attention to the professor, Harry," Draco whispered. Harry, however, was captivated by Draco's presence, and just kept staring at him. "Potter. Don't be so obvious," Draco whined. Nonetheless, he slid his hand under the table, searching for Harry's leg. Harry gasped for air upon the touch, closing his eyes to enjoy the moment.

Harry opened his eyes again. Parts of the classroom were disappearing. Students vanished until only Harry and Draco were left. Harry looked up at the blonde, admiring how his blonde eyelashes caressed the skin underneath his eyes as he wrote. Harry's vision became watery, like an aquarelle painting.

Harry was thrown into another memory. The Gryffindor Common room was dark, the curtains to Harry's bed were closed. The dark haired Gryffindor was chuckling, lying next to a half-naked blonde Slytherin.

"I seriously don't know what you like about me. You're… breathtaking, you know. And I'm… Just Harry," Harry heard himself speak.

"Stop being so modest, Potter. You're gorgeous. You're just too blind to see half the school wants to get into your pants."

"Do you?" Harry asked seductively. He could feel the heat radiating off Draco's porcelain skin. He softly caressed his cheek, then followed the line of his cheekbone into his neck. Their lips met, the sweet taste of Draco made Harry moan. He buried his nails into Draco's back, pulling him closer in the gesture. Harry broke the kiss and looked at the man lying next to him. He was the most beautiful man he'd ever seen. As he observed the blonde, the surroundings started to fade. Draco's body became transparent and before Harry knew it, he was lying alone in his bed.

"Disgusting." A cold, familiar voice said. "Stay away from my son." Lucius Malfoy looked down on Harry Potter, whose green eyes had turned white because of the spell. He turned around, and with a swing of his robe he disappeared.

The last thing on Harry's mind was the silver gaze of his lover. White light took over his mind as he fell into nothingness.

**To be continued…**


	2. Chapter 2: Hogwarts

**Hi everyone! This is chapter 2! I didn't get much response on the first chapter, but I hope you like where the story's going. Tell me what you think! I'll update weekly, on Thursdays. **

**If someone feels like betaing this story, feel free to send me a PM. I could use one!  
English is not my mother tongue! If you find errors of any kind, you can point them out in a review or a PM, I will be pleased to adapt them. **

**For now, enjoy.**

Chapter 2  
Hogwarts

_"Hogwarts will Always be there to welcome you home"_  
_-J.K. Rowling-_

Harry opened his eyes and was welcomed by different shades of orange. The seven players of the Chudley Cannons waved at him from their flag on the wall. A few feet to the left, Galvin Gudgeon caught the Snitch in front of a cheering crowd. Harry was lying in a bed next to Ronald Weasley, his best friend. Slowly, his brain woke up and he remembered how he got there. He and Hermione were staying at the Burrow for a while. The Wizard World was trying to recover from the War and Harry was glad he could stay with the Weasleys. To be honest, Harry had nowhere else to go. He couldn't go back to the Dursleys, as they were in danger themselves. Besides, he refused to return there. Hermione couldn't go back to her parents either. They were still under the Forgetfullness Charm and didn't know they had a daughter. Hermione wanted to wait until everything in the Wizard World had calmed down, to make sure nothing happened to them.

Ron was still snoring, with one leg dangling out of bed, his head covered under the orange blanket. Harry got up, trying not to step on anything. He was wearing a striped pyjama pants he'd got from Ron. As he exited Ron's room, he noticed one again how the Burrow had been hit. Luckily it wasn't bad as Hogwarts. Harry felt powerless because the only place he'd ever called home was destructed. The Survivor made his way downstairs and found Mrs. Weasley in the kitchen. The living room was still marked by the fire that had raged a few months ago.

"Hi, Harry dear. How are you feeling?" Mrs. Weasley was busy preparing breakfast. Four frying pans were sitting on the stove, one with scrambled eggs, one with pancakes, one with sausages and the last one with bacon. The white beans were already placed on the kitchen table, and the older woman looked flustered.

"I'm good, thanks Mrs. Weasley. Did you hear anything from Hogwarts yet?" Harry looked around to see if there was anything he could help her with, but the woman had everything under control. Mrs. Weasley sent the fresh tomatoes to the table with a swing of her wand and replied.

"Yes. They are looking for volunteers to help renovate the place. Professor McGonnagal wants to reopen the school in September." Mrs. Weasley stopped her actions to smile at Harry, then continued loading the table with food.

"Really? That's great. I would love to help out." Harry pulled back one of the chairs and sat down, still facing Mrs. Weasley. She started the washing-up as she kept stirring in her stewing food. It smelled delicious.

"No, Harry, you need to rest. You have done enough." She threw him a pitiful glance and Harry suppressed a sigh.

"I'm good, Mrs. Weasley. I insist on helping out. After all, I was one of the people who smashed it down." He didn't like it when people tried to tell him what to do. He murdered Voldemort. He could deal with rebuilding a castle very well. Besides, what else was he supposed to do? Sit and watch?

"Have some breakfast, dear." She put the remaining frying pans on the table and started filling his plate. Harry wanted to protest, but that's when Hermione came down the stairs. She was already dressed up, while Harry's hair was pointing in every direction. On the other hand, it was no use trying to fix it so Harry didn't even bother to try.

"Hi, Hermione. How are you?" Harry put some eggs and bacon in his mouth and offered his best friend a smile.

"I'm getting there. It was nice being able to sleep without worrying about Snatchers, for once." The smile on her face told Harry she was happy to see him too.

"They're looking for volunteers to help renovate Hogwarts. You feel like it?"

"But of course!" Hermione exclaimed. "I would love to!" Harry smiled upon her reaction. He was glad to have her on his side. Mrs. Weasley was a good woman, but she couldn't withhold him from helping out at Hogwarts. "I think a lot of former students will want to help out as well. It'll be good to see them all back, won't it Harry?" Hermione looked around the table before deciding on a pancake with maple syrup.

"Yeah. I think so."

"Let's eat first, we can talk about that later. Try to get some rest first," Mrs. Weasley quickly added. She seemed very reluctant about the idea, and Harry shook his head.

"I feel completely rested. In fact, I would feel useless sitting here and doing nothing." It was against his will to be rude to Ron's mother, but he wanted to explain to her why he needed to go.

"Oi," Ron greeted. He was still dressed in his pyjamas – just like Harry – and took a seat at the table. "What ya talking about?"

"Renovating Hogwarts," Hermione responded. She conjured chocolate milk into her glass and took a bit from her pancake.

"Why are we still here? They could use some muscular lads like us, right Harry?" Ron started filling his plate until it was one big heap. He then buried his fork in it and stuffed his mouth. Hermione's left corner lifted upon hearing the word muscular, but she remained silent.

"That's what I said."

"Maybe Malfoy will be there as well," Hermione added. She reached over for the sausages and then started cutting them up, all while looking at Ron's plate disapprovingly.

"Why would he be there? Isn't he running from the Aurors?" Harry lifted an eyebrow and grabbed a piece of toast to go with the eggs.

"No, why would you think that? Malfoy helped us a lot during the war, Harry. Don't act like you don't remember." At first, Harry thought Hermione was teasing him, but when he looked at her, he saw she meant it.

"Remember what? I don't want to see him at Hogwarts. That ignorant bastard tried to kill Dumbledore, if you hadn't noticed."

"It was his _task. _He didn't _want_ to do it. I thought you discussed that? Say something about it Ronald." Hermione looked at the Survivor in confusion and kicked Ron under the table.

"Wid ou an Mawfo bweak up?" Ron asked with a mouthful. Tiny bits of egg flew across the table and Harry raised another eyebrow.

"What?" It was impossible to understand what he had said.

"Did you and Malfoy break up?" The Redhead asked again. Harry's eyes widened.

"WHAT?" Harry's cutlery clattered on his plate noisily, joining his exclamation.

"Did you and Ma-" Ron started but was interrupted by a furious Boy Who Lived.

"Don't repeat it again! I heard you! Why would you think I was seeing Malfoy? He's a sneaky bastard! Perhaps something's wrong with your memory, but he hated us for seven years!" Harry was getting so aggravated he lost his appetite. On top of that, Ron and Hermione looked at him like he'd gone mad. "What?!" Harry snapped.

"Nothing, Harry. Don't you remember?" Hermione was looking at him like he'd just undergone brain surgery.

"Remember what?" Harry cried out in frustration.

"You dated Malfoy for over a year." Harry couldn't resist any longer. He burst out in a fit of laughter. In between his chuckles, he managed to say: "Don't make me laugh! Is this a joke?" At this point, his friends watched him like they would call the Psychiatric Department of St. Mungo's.

"No, it's not. Did something happen when you fought You Know Who?" Hermione didn't smile back, and Harry realized they weren't mocking.

"No, not that I can remember." Ron and Hermione shared a knowing glance. "What?" Harry asked again. He felt as if he'd been diagnosed with a mortal illness and his friends were the only ones who knew about it.

"Nothing. It'll be best if we stop by St. Mungo's. You never know what You Know Who Might have done." Harry crossed his arms, looking at his friends displeased. "I'm fine," he said. "Can't you see there's nothing wrong with me?"

"My parents don't know I made them forget me. They're convinced they never saw me before." What was the relevance of this? What did this have to do with Malfoy?

"That's because you used a spell on them, Hermione," Harry said matter-of-factly.

"The victim never remembers the spell."

"That's it," Harry growled. He pushed back his chair, causing a scraping sound and excited the kitchen. This was madness! What were they thinking? That he was _gay_? There was nothing that had ever looked appealing in a man! Gross!

* * *

Harry was staying behind in the Quidditch dressing room. It had been a rough day of training, even though it was only noon on a Saturday. He took off his shirt and went to the showers in his underwear. He had never felt at ease showering with the rest of the boys. Most of the time, he showered in the Common Room, but sometimes he stayed behind.

Harry did not expect someone to return. The door opened softly. Harry stopped his movements and remained still under the sprinklers. Not that it mattered, because the splashing water could unmistakably be heard in the dressing room. He was positive it couldn't be Fred or George, nor Ron. The room remained silent, and Harry waited for the person to leave again.

"Can I join you?" a familiar voice spoke. It belonged to a tall, blonde Slytherin. Harry spinned around, his cheeks turning red. He just nodded. "S-sure." Malfoy stepped into the shower, wearing only boxers as well. Harry's heart was racing because of the boy's presence. His body was very muscular, something his robes tended to hide.

"You're looking all flustered, Potter. Something wrong?" Malfoy's words were chosen carefully. The way his lips formed them, the way they hung in the air around them made Harry blush even more.

"No, nothing," Harry breathed. Why was Malfoy always so confident? He felt like a little child, while the blonde acted all manly. He wanted to sink through the drainage, just like the water.

"You did well on the pitch today, Potter. I saw you." This only made Harry's embarrassment increase. A pleasurable tug made its way through his body, halting in his abdomen.

"You did? You're not allowed to watch our training. You might steal our tactics." Harry tried to sound reprimanding, but in fact he couldn't tell the difference between a Snitch and a Bludger anymore.

"I am not allowed to watch my _boyfriend? _Who made that rule up?" Harry swallowed thickly, trying not to swoon.

"Stop teasing, Malfoy. Are you here to shower, or what?"

"No. I'm here for you." Malfoy wrapped his arms around Harry's shoulders and pulled him closer. Harry was welcomed by Malfoy's perfume. It was a mixture of vanilla and raspberry.

"You smell nice," Harry breathed against Malfoy's chest. His skin felt warm against Harry's lips. He could hear Malfoy's steady heartbeat, the sound of it sent shivers down his spine. Malfoy put his finger underneath Harry's chin, gently making him look up.

"Come here," pink lips whispered and Harry leaned in.

Harry Potter woke up, a wave of terror passing through his body. He had not dreamed about Draco Malfoy. He popped his head to the side to see if Ron was still asleep. His best friend was snoring loudly, his Red mop of hair spread across his pillow.

Harry gave a sigh of relief. At least Ron was sleeping. However, that didn't solve the problem in Harry's boxers. The Survivor squeezed his eyes shut. It was all Hermione's fault. Why did she have to bring Malfoy up? Look where it got him! He was dreaming crazy stuff about the bloody Death Eater.

Harry tried to calm himself down. The dream of Malfoy had left a bad taste in his mouth. He could still smell a hint of vanilla. Harry slapped himself in the face. There was no vanilla here. Merlin, he'd been dreaming!

Harry needed to focus. He was lying on a mattress next to his best friend with an erection in his pants. Every experienced young teenager would see it wasn't just a morning hardness. It was a full hard-on. Harry sighed. The more he thought about it, the worse it got.

It was impossible to solve it in bed. Harry didn't even consider touching himself next to Ron. Not in Ron's very own room! And not after he'd dreamed about Malfoy.

Harry decided to get up. He calmed himself down with the thought that this only happened because his friends had brought that weird boyfriend stuff up. This wouldn't happen again. Harry excited Ron's bedroom and headed for the bathroom.

He ran down the first pair of stairs, leading to the floor where the shower was. He needed cold water on his crotch desperately. Not the hot water that had run down his abdomen in his dreams. Not the warm arms that had been folded- STOP! This wasn't helping. He was just about to open the door to the bathroom when Hermione opened the door for him. Brilliant.

"Hi Harry." She offered him a smile, then probably realized Harry wasn't his usual self. Her look fell down and halted in the centre of his body. The fact that he was covering that part up with his hands left no questions unanswered. Harry could see his best friend make that conclusion in her head. She offered him a forced grin and turned red as well. She then ran off, giving him a mumbled: "Bye Harry."

Harry could shoot himself right now. This was all Malfoy's fault! Wait until they arrived at Hogwarts. He would make that Ferretface pay! Luckily, they were going to Hogwarts today. Molly had talked Hermione out of going to St. Mungo's. Harry was very positive no Forgetfulness Charm had been used. He couldn't wait to see the blonde, so that his assumptions could be confirmed. There was no way Malfoy would play along with their stupid game, right? A tiny voice in the back of Harry's head told him his friends weren't making a joke, causing a unpleasant wave in his stomach. Harry shut that voice up quickly.

Harry locked the bathroom door behind him and swiftly threw off his pyjama pants. He stepped under the shower, and was welcomed by hot water. His body needed a cold shower, actually, but Harry didn't feel like pouring freezing water on himself so early in the morning. He closed his eyes as the hot water massaged his shoulders and started to relax his muscles.

Long slender fingers made their way up Harry's torso, caressing the skin as they went along. Harry opened his eyes again. He shouldn't be fantasizing about this when he was awake! He was _not _attracted to Malfoy. However, Harry's erection had different things in mind. Harry closed his eyes again, trying to stop his mind from going there. The pleasurable tug in his cock, made Harry think about the hands again. They weren't going up his torso now. They slowly slid down his abdomen, playing with the black strands of hair as they passed by. Harry threw his head in his neck, leaning against the shower tiles. Malfoy breathed in his ear.

"Do you want me, Potter?" Malfoy's words tickled his ear, making Harry moan in reply. Out of the blue, Malfoy took a hold of Harry's masculinity. Harry bucked his hips, his muscles contracting. His breathing became irregular, his body moved in the steady rhythm of Malfoy's hands. Silver eyes were burned on his retina, vanilla perfume hung around him. Harry reached the edge, a white blur of ecstasy washing over him.

The water felt unpleasant. Guilt boiled up in Harry's stomach. He opened his eyes. He was alone in the shower. He quickly washed his hands, trying to rinse off the memory of Malfoy. Why was this happening? Was he going crazy?

This had to stop right now. They would go back to Hogwarts today. Harry would ask Malfoy what a stupid joke they were making and then everything would go back to normal. No one needed to know about this…

* * *

It was weird going to Hogwarts without using the Hogwarts' express. This only had happened once before, and that was when Dobby had closed the entrance to Platform 93/4. Ron had driven his father's Flying Ford Anglia and crashed it in the Whomping Willow. Harry smiled at the memory.

Harry, Hermione and Ron were walking up to the big Gates. The teachers had done great efforts to make the Entrance look inviting. However, the rest of the castle was still as deteriorated as a week ago.

Harry couldn't believe it had been a week since he defeated Voldemort. Time passed by so quickly. They made it to the Great Hall. The four House Tables were lined up next to each other. Students of all ages were talking animatedly. It looked like the Golden Trio weren't the only ones that wanted to help out in their school. They sat down on the Gryffindor table next to Neville.

"Hi, Neville. When did you get here?" Hermione asked. Harry smiled at the boy. He'd been great during the war. Harry remembered his speech to Voldemort with a grateful smile. However, the dark haired Gryffindor couldn't keep Harry's attention for long. He looked around the room for a blonde mop of hair.

He searched the Slytherin Table, but that one was awfully empty. Nobody Harry knew was sitting there. Would they have died during the War? Or were they on the run? Harry realized Malfoy wouldn't be here. That was a relief. He was just about to nudge Hermione to tell her he'd been right about Malfoy, when someone wrapped their arms around his waist. A soft voice whispered in his ear.

"Missed me?" The voice belonged to Malfoy. Harry untangled himself and turned around, an angry wave taking over his entire body.

"Get your hands off, Malfoy," he snapped. Malfoy took a step backwards, confusion in eyes of molten silver. Harry noticed he'd pictured them very vividly. They looked the exact same in real life as in his dream.

"What's wrong?" Malfoy's voice didn't sneer as usual. Instead, Harry recognized a hint of disappointment, fear even.

"I said get off. How dare you touch me, you bloody scumbag?" Hermione's face looked pained and as Harry looked closer he could see she was trying to explain something to Malfoy. What was she doing?

"Harry, what happened? Are you pissed because of something?" Malfoy said. He looked very handsome in tight fitting black trousers with a soft grey blouse. Not that Harry cared. He was getting more and more fed up with the fact that Malfoy was joyfully playing along with the game of his friends.

"Don't call me Harry. That's for friends," Harry snapped. Why had his friends convinced Malfoy to trick him? Was this their gratitude for killing Voldemort? Well, if that was going to be the case, Harry didn't feel like talking to them anymore.

"O. Okay," Malfoy seemed defeated, but Harry could care less. It was his fault Dumbledore was dead. Harry would never forget that. Hermione leaned closer to his arch enemy and whispered something in his ear.

"Really Hermione? Could you stop talking behind my back?" Harry clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. This was not going as he had planned.

"Calm down, mate," Ron interrupted. He'd been caught up with his food up until now and threw him a pitiful glance. That's when Harry lost it.

"I DON'T FEEL LIKE CALMING DOWN!" Harry shouted. Several students looked around to see who as making all the noise. "Stop playing games! I'm sick of it!" Harry got up from the table and left. He walked through the Great Hall, glances burning in his neck. Let them look, Harry thought fervently. If Draco Bloody Malfoy would hug them from the back they wouldn't exactly be happy either, right?

He exited the Hall and made his way to the stairs. He still remembered how he and Voldemort had fought there. He fixed some stuff along the way, not knowing what else to do. He was glad to be alone with his mind. What had happened? He'd thought Malfoy wouldn't be interested in pestering him. Apparently the Ferret thought otherwise. But Harry wouldn't leave it at that.

He would make the blonde pay.

* * *

Draco sat down at the Gryffindor table, still gaping at the Entrance of the Great Hall with an open mouth. "What happened?" He'd never seen Harry so pissed before. Well, he'd seen it before but it had never been directed to him over the past year.

"I think Harry's under the Forgetfullness Charm. He doesn't remember being together with you," Granger explained quickly. Draco frowned at her.

"What do you mean, Granger? Is this a joke? How could someone make him forget _me. _Only me?" Draco wanted his voice to sound angry, but he realised he sounded scared. Deep down, he knew a lot of people who would want to make Potter forget him. Who had found out about them?

"Someone who wasn't happy with your relationship, perhaps? I don't know, Draco. I'm so sorry. I tried to make him go to St. Mungo's but he didn't want to." Draco observed the bushy haired woman and realized she wasn't lying. She would never try to fool him. Especially not when it came to Harry. He also realized that the mastermind behind this whole idea wasn't intending on hurting Potter alone. He wanted to hurt Draco as well.

A flash of emerald green burned on Draco's retina. Harry. How could this have happened? How could it be that all they'd been through together was erased? He still remembered their first kiss.

_Potter was following him around the entire time, during their sixth year. One time, he'd followed Draco to the Room of Requirement. Of course, the moron was convinced Draco had no idea he was followed. Draco hid behind a few boxes in the Room of Hidden Things. Just like Draco predicted, Potter followed him. He looked around a few times, then stepped forward, deeper into the large room._

_Draco got up from his hiding place, following the raven-haired boy on the tip of his feet. He took his time to admire Potter's behind. Man, that boy had no clue how handsome he was. "Looking for someone?" Draco asked. Potter jumped up, turning around with a startled look on his face. That would teach him, the nosy Parker. _

"_Er.. No," Potter didn't know what to say. He'd been caught in the heat of the moment. Draco took advantage of it and stepped closer. _

"_What are you doing here then, Potter?" He was only a few inches away of Potter's nose. He could smell his fragrance and smiled inwardly. _

"_I… er… lost a book." Draco quirked an eyebrow in disbelief. _

"_A book? Good luck finding it in this mess. I was under the impression you were looking for _me," _Draco pointed out. A red blush crept up the Chosen One's face. _

"_No, I wasn't." Potter stepped backwards, but Draco got closer yet again. He could see how Potter swallowed thickly. Draco licked his lips. _

"_What are you doing?" Potter questioned in a high voice. He was backing up more quickly, his green eyes widening. _

"_Nothing, I just wanted to ask you something." Potter kept backing up until he was backed up against one of the many cupboards. "Do you find me attractive?" Draco used a seducing voice. He placed his hands on either side of Potter's face. The latter had a dark blush on his face. _

"_Er…" was all the Chosen One could bring out. Draco grinned and leaned in closer, so his breath fell on Potter's lips._

"_That was very enlightening." The words were barely audible, but he was standing so close to Potter that the boy must've heard them. Their lips were almost touching. Potter's dark eyelashes fell shut. Draco took of Potter's glasses softly. Their noses touched. Draco could already taste Potter on his lips. _

Harry didn't remember that. He had no idea it had ever happened. The thought cut him like a knife. "So what do we do?" Draco snapped out of the memory, focusing on Granger's brown eyes again. There was worry in them, which confirmed Draco's presumption. There wasn't much they could do.

"I don't know," the blonde replied. When he spoke, his voice sounded a lot softer than he intended to. He didn't want to come across as weak next to Potter's friends, but the thought of losing the Survivor made his head spin and filled his stomach with nausea.

"Maybe we should just wait and see. Maybe Harry will turn around sooner or later. You never know," Hermione concluded. Even though Draco knew the bushy haired woman was the smartest girl in the entire school, he knew she didn't come off best. If Potter had indeed been cursed with the Forgetfullness Charm and the caster had made Potter forget everything about his love for Draco, there was no chance he would remember anything. After all, you can't remember memories that aren't yours, right?

Draco's eyes looked back to the big entrance door, where Potter had left. His heart thumped painfully in his chest.

All he could think about were green eyes, dark hair and a lightning bolt shaped scar.

**To be continued!**


	3. Chapter 3: Teamed up

**Hi! This is the next chapter! I hope you like where its going… It hasn't got much response so far, so I would be so happy to read your reviews, even if they're only one word! _**

**Oh, if someone feels like betaing the story, send me a PM!**

**Enjoy!**

Chapter 3  
Teamed up

"_Things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end, if not always in the way we expect."  
-Luna Lovegood- _

Harry turned around in his bed. He couldn't believe he was sleeping in the very same bed he'd been sleeping in for six years. Ron was lying in the bed next to him, hidden behind crimson curtains. His regular breathing was soothing, but still, Harry couldn't sleep.

He could pretend that it was the fact that they'd been assigned the very same dormitory that kept him awake, but it wasn't. It had nothing to do with his whereabouts. He just kept thinking about long slender arms, wrapped around his waist. The warm breath that had fallen on his ear. Why had Malfoy attacked him like that? Why did Hermione play his game along?

Even Ron wasn't one hundred percent on his side. They were talking about Malfoy, and Ron – the redhead wizard who'd worn second hand robes his entire life, who'd been insulted by that very same blonde every single day of his life – Ron was partly on Malfoy's side. Could you believe that?

Hermione was under the full impression he was under the Forgetfullness Charm. As if Harry wouldn't know a part of his memory was missing. Wouldn't there be a large black hole? Harry remembered everything he'd ever done with Malfoy. Well, not into detail, but there wasn't anything missing as far as he knew. Plus, he was fairly certain there was nothing friendly, nor romantic involved. He'd stalked him throughout his sixth year to know what the blonde was up to. Harry had suspected it to be something bad. And it was. He was planning on killing Dumbledore.

Harry got a bitter taste in his mouth. Malfoy needed to be punished. He'd been on the Dark Side the entire time, but everyone gave him a new change. Merlin knew why they let him into Hogwarts. _Hogwarts._ It would never be the same again. He had all kinds of memories of this magical place, before, during and after the war. Harry knew this was where he was supposed to be. Still, something felt wrong.

Something felt completely wrong. He had a hunch it had something to do with a certain Slytherin. Blone locks. Pointy features.

* * *

Harry was walking through the corridors of Hogwarts, hidden underneath his Cloak of Invisibility. He walked to the third floor hurriedly, heading for the Trophy Room. Upon arriving there, he quickly looked around to see if the corridor was empty and softly opened the door.

"You made it," a male voice spoke. Malfoy stepped out of the shadows, but Harry was still hidden under the Cloak. He saw the blonde look at the door, a frown crossing rippling his forehead.

"Potter. Are you here yet?" Malfoy took a step closer and Harry walked around the man quietly. He tapped against one of the Trophies, which gave a high, clinging sound.

"Potter?" Malfoy asked. He looked worried. "This isn't funny." Harry thought otherwise and hit another Trophy, running around the stuffed room. Malfoy followed suit, trying to find where he was. As soon as Harry made a sound, Malfoy looked into that direction and tried to locate him. In vain.

"You and that stupid Cloak!" the Slytherin exclaimed. Harry stopped right next to his ear.

"Draco," he whispered, and Malfoy turned around again. His hands touched in the air for a moment until he found Harry's body.

"There you are. You moron," Malfoy half-snapped. He pulled off Harry's cloak to reveal his face. Harry had a smug grin plastered across his face.

"Don't start, Ferretface. You were starting to get scared, weren't you?" Malfoy got a blush on his face, but his tone remained cold.

"No, I wasn't. You're like a four-year-old." The blonde crossed his arms in front of his chest stubbornly, turning his head away.

"I didn't know you fancied kids, Malfoy."

"Who told you I fancied you?" Malfoy scoffed, but Harry could see he didn't mean it. Harry faked a hurt expression and then smiled again.

"So… Why did you make me come here? Are you going to punish me like Filch did to Ron in our second year?" Harry questioned, putting a pointing finger on Malfoy's chest bone.

"Even though I would love to see you on your hands and knees, cleaning all these stupid Trophies without magic, I think I'll pass." Malfoy chuckled at the thought, a sound that fit his voice quite well. Harry couldn't suppress a grin.

"It's not like I would have played along anyway. I'm not twelve anymore."

"No, you're not," Malfoy replied, letting his look waver over Harry. The latter swallowed, feeling flustered under the glance.

"So, you're not going to send Filch out on us this time?" The Gryffindor tried to sound accusatory, but failed miserably. He just couldn't stop looking at the man fondly, the cheeky grin was still present.

"I didn't know you were someone to hold grudges, Potter," Malfoy smiled. Harry stepped closer. His heart was racing and his fingers were trembling.

"I just don't want anyone unwanted barging in," Harry whispered, leaning in to the Slytherin. He placed his hands on Malfoy's shoulder, examining the texture of the fabric with his fingers before looking up again.

"Just you and me," Malfoy breathed against his ear. Their lips wavered over, nearly touching when Malfoy frowned. "Maybe you'd better take off that Cloak, Potter. I can't see where you're standing." Harry burst out laughing and threw off his father's Cloak.

"Harry!" Harry frowned, moaning in his sleep. "Harry!" He must've fallen asleep at some point, because Ron was standing next to his bed, trying to wake him up.

"What?" Harry replied sleepily.

"Finally, you're awake. We need to get to the Great Hall. They're distributing the Working Schemes." It took some time until Harry finally realised he'd been dreaming and then shot out of his bed. Ron quirked an eyebrow.

"I'll meet you downstairs." Harry mumbled a response and started putting on his clothes in a steady rhythm, his thoughts still in the Trophy Room. Why had he dreamed about Malfoy again? This wasn't funny anymore. Was someone messing with his head? He was so caught up in his thoughts that he hadn't realised he was trying to put his feet through his shirt instead of a pair of trousers. Harry shook his head. This needed to end. It had gone on for long enough, now he'd had enough.

When he was ready, he met his friends in the Gryffindor Common room. Neville was there as well. "Hi guys," he greeted.

"Hi, Harry. Did you sleep well?" Hermione asked. That was just something for Hermione to ask. As if she could read his thoughts about Malfoy. Harry could picture her reaction to his dreams vividly: "I told you Harry, you are under the Forgetfullness Charm. It very normal to have dreams about what used to be your memory, especially when the caster hasn't been very careful." Harry quickly stopped her rant. As if these dreams were his memories. That was impossible. And if that was the case, Harry would have a fit.

"Like a baby," he muttered in reply.

"Did you have nightmares again? Neville told me you mumbled a lot. It woke him up." Really Neville? Even though your speech was awesome, you'd better keep your mouth shut, Harry thought angrily. His cheeks turned slightly read, feeling caught in the heat of the moment.

"Really?" Harry's eyebrows disappeared in his hairline. "I slept just fine, thanks for your concern." Harry tried to keep his face in a neutral expression. It was difficult, since he was angry because of Neville's confession, confused because of what the Hermione in his head had said, frustrated because since the war was over, everyone seemed to be mothering over him, fearing he was going to die any moment, flustered because he'd been caught having a hot dream – wait, hot? No, no, no! Harry tried to think of nothing, which wasn't helping.

Eventually, his thoughts went back to Neville. Would he have heard what Harry had said in his dream? Did Neville realise he wasn't exactly having a _bad _dream? Dreaming about Malfoy was qualified as a nightmare to Harry, but his body and the way it reacted seemed to think otherwise.

A cold shiver ran down Harry's spine. If they only knew…

* * *

Harry should have known Malfoy would be sitting with them. First of all, he didn't have anyone else to sit with. Secondly, he and Hermione seemed like they were good friends. Why they were friends all of a sudden, Harry had no clue. Maybe they were just trying to fool him. Not that Harry believed it, but he settled for that thought rather than assuming that he and Malfoy had a romantic past.

He sat down next to Ron, and sat, much to his despise, right in front of the blonde. He didn't look up, but just started to fill his plate with bacon, eggs and toast. The House Elves had yet again outdone themselves and Harry was glad to see at least one thing that hadn't changed. The meals at Hogwarts were still delicious, superfluous and irresistible.

"We'll be teamed up. The younger students will get the easier tasks. We will have to do the more sophisticated ones," Hermione explained. How in the Wizard World she knew about that, Harry didn't know. She always seemed informed of stuff way before Harry, ever since he first met her. She about spells, about Hogwarts. Harry smiled at the thought. He'd been new to the magical World, but she had entered their coupé and fixed his glasses with one swing of her wand. She'd always been a lot brighter.

"Like what? I mean, I know a lot of cleaning and repairing spells, but apart from that,…" Harry frowned.

"I don't know. I think a lot of the gardens need to be regrown, seeds need to be planted. That must be the easier tasks. Repairing small things are easy as well, but building the walls requires a lot of magic," Hermione explained. Harry looked at her, a dumb expression on his face. She was most certainly a lot brighter. Ron was shoving down his breakfast in no time, but paused as well, to look at her with a questioning face.

"What?" Hermione asked. "Am I the only one who knows that?"

The two boys nodded as Hermione rolled her eyes. "Draco, can you pass me the jelly, please?" she asked. _Draco? _What had become of the world? Harry threw the blonde a murderous glance, but immediately regretted looking at the man.

His lips were the same pink as in his dream. The fragrance of Malfoy tingled his nostrils as if he was back in his dream again. Merlin, when had this happened? He couldn't even _look _at the Ferret without losing his sanity.

"So… When is this game finally going to end?" Harry asked. Both Hermione and Malfoy looked at him. "I don't feel like playing along with it, and it's starting to get annoying."

"It's not a game, Harry," Hermione spoke softly. Her voice sounded honest, but how was it possible that this wasn't one big joke? He _hated _Malfoy. Hearing his name made disgust boil up in his throat, so why would his smartest friend try to fool him?

The Working Schemes were passed around and led their attention away. They were starting at nine and were divided in groups of four. Harry looked at the names.

**_Group 12: Viaduct and Viaduct Entrance_**

**_Harry Potter_**

**_Hermione Granger_**

**_Ronald Weasley_**

**_Draco Malfoy_**

Draco Malfoy? They were working together? This wasn't happening! Harry looked at the man sitting in front of him. The bloody bastard hadn't spoken a word since he got here.

"Is this serious? I'm not working with that scumbag, Hermione. I won't take it. He hasn't said a word since I got here!" Hermione shot him a reprimanding glance as if to say: "I didn't make the Working Schemes." Harry looked at Ron for help, but it looked like the Redhead wouldn't take his side either.

"What am I supposed to say, Potter?" Malfoy's voice sounded cold and harsh. It didn't resemble the voice he'd used yesterday. _"Missed me?" _Harry's left earlobe tingled because of the memory.

"I don't know. Perhaps that you would give anything to sit at the other table instead of ours? You're still a Slytherin to me, Malfoy. Unlike others, I haven't forgotten about your Dark Mark!" Harry snapped. Malfoy's silver eyes looked haunted as they stared back at him. For all Harry knew it could just be a show. But somehow, the pained expression got to him.

"Stop acting like a child, Harry," Hermione reprimanded. "We've been divided into the same group because you used to date Draco. Why do you think Ron hasn't tried to kill him yet?"

"I have no idea," Harry retorted. He didn't like being put in his place. He didn't like being wrong either.

"Because he accepted your love for Malfoy." Hermione made it sound like it was the most logic thing that existed, but to Harry it was impossible. He _knew _there was a reason Ron wasn't calling Malfoy names. He _knew _there was a reason Hermione looked at him with that pitiful glance. But it couldn't be because he loved Malfoy. It just couldn't be.

"I don't LOVE MALFOY!" Harry exclaimed, frustration taking the better part of him. It was either shouting or crying out of frustration, and since Malfoy was still sitting in front of him, Harry picked the first one. "What part of that sentence can't you understand?" Harry looked at Malfoy, who didn't do anything. He just sat there, looking at him, poking with his fork in his food, but not taking a bite. This only aggravated Harry more. Why couldn't Malfoy act like he was supposed to act? Why did they make this so difficult?

"I _hate _you. Don't you get it? Nothing has changed, not before nor after the war," Harry snapped. And even though he'd made his point. Even though Malfoy nodded and looked the other way, letting Harry win this battle, he didn't feel better. He only felt more confused.

Why couldn't everything be like before?

* * *

Draco focussed on the orange juice can, trying to keep his mask in place. He couldn't fall apart in front of Potter. The disgust the Survivor felt for him would only cause Potter to mock him, and Draco couldn't take it. Not right now.

Everything had changed. He tried to breathe regularly. In. Out. In. Out. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. Everything they'd shared was gone. Well, gone for Potter, not for Draco. He still remembered everything about Potter. The blush in his neck. His breathing in his ear. The dark green lust in his eyes.

Draco tried to clear his mind. Bringing up memories would not get him through the day, and he was teamed up with the ball of anger sitting in front of him. Potter's dark hair was long. It fell over his forehead, covering up the scar and easily reached his eyebrows. Draco liked it that way. It was rebellious. Draco tore his gaze away. He needed to focus. He needed to think of a tactic. Making Potter fall in love all over again? Being nice to him hadn't worked so far, so Draco didn't know how he was supposed to make him fall in love again. To be honest, he had no clue why Potter had liked him that much.

The only thing he could come up with was falling back in the old routine. Hate one another.

* * *

The sun was burning, making its climb up to the middle of the sky, before descending down on the other side. Luckily for the group, Hermione had cast a cooling charm over them, which made working a lot easier. Harry smiled at his friend. He was grateful his two best friends hadn't died during the War. Harry wouldn't know what to do if they had.

He quickly suppressed that thought. They were here now, and that was all that mattered. He cast another charm and lifted one of the rocks. They had gotten a list with useful spells to build a bridge and they were progressing slowly. The Viaduct had been completely destroyed when Voldemorts Army had arrived. This way, the Light Side had wanted to prevent them from entering Hogwarts. It had almost cost Neville's life. Harry looked at the debris and wondered whether it all had been worth it.

Harry looked up from his work, his eyes searching the grounds until they met a long, muscular back. Because of the summer heat, they weren't wearing their usual Hogwarts robes. Malfoy was wearing a tight fitting black T-shirt, combined with a dark blue jeans. He couldn't believe his friends believed he dated that man. How could he ever love someone he hated so much? Harry caught himself staring and focussed on his own work again. If the blonde saw him staring that would draw his attention.

"Hey Potter. It's easier when you first assemble all the parts of the rocks, then repair it." Harry looked up, biting the inner side of his cheek as he observed Malfoy walking towards him.

"Did I ask for your help?" Harry snapped. He saw sweat sparkling on the blonde's forehead. As if he'd touched a Portkey, he suddenly felt a tug behind his belly button. A quick flash of a sweaty Malfoy lying on a bed shot through his head. Blonde hair was spread across the pillow and the Slytherin had a pink blush on his cheeks. He was completely naked, and had his arm wrapped around Harry. As fast as it had come, it was gone again. The image, however, was burned in Harry's mind.

"I'm just trying to..." Malfoy started. "Never mind." Harry looked in silver eyes disoriented. The same ones as in his dream. The same ones as in that image. He then turned his back to the man, trying to come across as angry, but in fact he was confused. Why had he thought about a naked Malfoy? Were his dreams turning into hallucinations? Harry shook his head. It must be the heat.

* * *

Harry walked up to the seventh floor. All the students were in the Great Hall for diner. Harry wanted to be alone for a while. He looked around the hallway. There were holes in the wall and some classrooms were completely vanished. Even though they'd been renovating the castle for a few days, there was still a lot to do. Harry didn't mind walking here. He'd been with Ron and Hermione all day. And Malfoy of course.

Instantly his thoughts halted on the blonde. He hadn't said much during the past couple of days. He was quiet most of the time, but when Harry said something insulting, the former Slytherin looked at him, soft grey eyes staring into his, trying to say something.

"Who do we have here?" an all-too familiar voice said. Harry cursed inwardly. Of all the people he'd wanted to run into, Malfoy was the only one he _really_ didn't want to see.

"I wanted to be alone," harry said explicitly. He turned away, walking in the opposite direction. The boy must've followed him here. Otherwise he wouldn't have known where he was, right? He must have been spying the entire time!

"You know what I don't understand, Potter?" Harry lifted an eyebrow, halting for a moment to look over his shoulder.

"No. Frankly, I don't care either," Harry replied as bold as brass. There was a flickering of silver in Malfoy's eyes. Just as Harry tried to distinguish what it was, it disappeared.

"You haven't even tried to remember. You just assume your friends are making fun of you, but why would they? After all that's happened why would they try to hurt you with something as stupid as loving me?" Harry looked at the blonde. His eyes had a sad gleam. The kind of emotion that would make him want to run up to him and hug him close, caressing the soft blonde hair as Harry tried to comfort him. Yet again, Harry successfully ignored that thought.

"Good one, Malfoy. You know what _I_ don't understand? That even though someone admittedly made me forget everything about you, you haven't even tried to _make me_ remember. Not once." Harry wasn't sure if that was the right thing to say. But he didn't want Malfoy to win the argument and it was the only thing he could come up with.

"Is that a challenge, Potter?"

"No. It's an observation. I never said my friends are making fun of me. I just thought they were, but then I realized they wouldn't keep it up if it weren't real. That doesn't take away that I despise you, Malfoy." Again, there was a silver flickering in Malfoy's eyes. The pained expression made Harry frown, his attack faltering. He shouldn't feel sorry. He really shouldn't.

"But you do realise you have loved me for a long time?" Draco's voice wasn't as confident as before. It trembled softly, but Malfoy kept a straight face.

"I guess. I don't love you anymore. And I won't love you again, Malfoy. I don't see why." Harry hoped the words would scare Malfoy away. It was too confusing to talk to him in private. He needed to be alone again.

"You were never the smartest of the Trio, weren't you Potter?" Harry wanted to strangle the blonde, but let him continue instead. "Who-ever made you forget about me, might have accomplished his mission. But you loved me once. I can make you fall in love all over again." Malfoy seemed confident again. The words hung in the air like a magical glow. Harry was afraid to deny them but didn't want to accept them either.

"Whatever you say," was all he managed to say. Harry walked the other way, leaving Malfoy behind. However, his words kept replaying in his head. _I can make you fall in love all over again. _Harry squeezed his eyes shut. Why was this so difficult?

_But you do realise you have loved me for a long time. You loved me once. _Suddenly, a wave of anger washed over the Survivor. What right did the person who erased his memory have to wipe away memories that were his own? If he ever found that bastard he would make him pay. Out of the blue a flash of long, blonde hair blurred his vision. As soon as it came, it was gone again, but Harry knew who it was. Those cold grey eyes could only belong to one person. Lucius Malfoy.

It made sense.

**To be continued…  
Tell me what you think! **


	4. Chapter 4: Memories

**Soo! Already chapter 4. This is going way to fast, I barely can keep up! Thanks for all the comments, inlcuding the guest, to whom I couldn't reply! I hope you all like where this is going.**

**In case someone feels like betaing the story, just send me a PM.**

**For now, just enjoy!**

Chapter 4  
Memories

"_Where your treasure is, there your heart will be"_

_-Albus Dumbledore -_

Harry was sitting in the Gryffindor Common Room. It had been affected by the War, but most of it was restored. Having lived here for six years, Harry saw they'd put up some new paintings. Red arm chairs had been refitted and Harry was positive he hadn't seen that carpet in front of the fireplace before. Nonetheless, it still felt like home.

He was sitting in the sofa, in their usual corner, smiling at his friend. He was glad Malfoy wasn't around for once. The students of other houses were allowed in different Common Rooms, since the year hadn't started yet. However, Harry was pleased Malfoy had stayed in his House.

"Do you think it's ever going to be the same?" Harry questioned. Hermione looked up from the book she was reading. Ron had gone upstairs to find something, but Harry hadn't been listening, so he didn't know exactly what he was searching for. He'd been musing about Malfoy.

"No, I don't think so. But why should it?" she offered him a smile. Harry returned it, realizing once again how smart Hermione actually was. "How's your memory of Malfoy?" she continued, more careful. Harry was grateful she used his last name. She probably realized it was hard for him to hear that first name. _Draco. _The thought sent shivers down his spine.

"I don't know. It's hard. I know you remember something completely different, but to me it's strange. I can't fall in love with someone I've always hated."

"I understand. It's not easy for us either. I have to stand between you and Malfoy. I don't want to lose you, but he's become my friend as well. I don't want that to come between us. Oh, Harry. You two were such a cute couple! If it weren't for Ron, you would've gotten together way sooner!" Hermione exclaimed. Harry looked as if he'd eaten something sour. He didn't know whether to smile or be angry, resulting in a strange expression. "I'm sorry." Hermione saw his uncomfortableness. "Do you remember anything yet? Do you have weird dreams?"

"I don't know about the dreams," Harry lied smoothly, "But I do remember something. It was just a short flash in my head, but I'm convinced Lucius is the one who cursed me. I remember something very vague of him coming up to me in the Boathouse, right after I killed Voldemort." Hermione's brown eyes grew as big as saucers.

"His _father? _That wouldn't surprise me! He's in Azkaban now. Would they let him out to take his spell back?" Harry chuckled. Even though Hermione was the smartest witch of Hogwarts, she was naïve occasionally.

"I don't think so, Mione. Besides you're not going anywhere near Azkaban. I don't want you to tell everyone I fancied Malfoy! That would be utterly embarrassing!" Harry's cheeks went rosy while thinking about it.

"But Harry! They're your memories!"

"I know, but… I don't want the personnel of the Daily Prophet to come interview me. They're hardly leaving me alone now, as it is. Maybe later. I need to get my mind straight."

"What later?" Ron came down the stairs, both his arms wrapped around a big box.

"Harry thinks Lucius is the one who cast the Forgetfulness Charm. But he's in Azkaban." Hermione made it sound like it was a pity. The deserved what he got. And no Spell could convince Harry to let that cold-hearted man out of his prison.

"Let's go kill that bloody bastard! He can't even accept his son's preferences!" Ron sat down between Harry and Hermione and put the box of Wizard's Chess – which was clearly the object he went searching for – on the coffee table in front of them. His blue eyes shone brightly as he scolded: "That ugly piece of shit!"

"Like you are any different," Hermione noted dryly. "You didn't speak to Harry for weeks. You even refused to sleep in the same room." At that, Ron's enthusiasm faltered a little. He frowned, before he replied.

"That's not the same, Hermione. I accepted it eventually. Malfoy senior is a filthy Death Eater. Although… When I come to think of it… erasing Malfoy's mind seems like a good idea. I never put it like that before..."

"Ron!"

Harry watched his friends bickering, patiently waiting for the Redhead to invite him to play Wizard's Chess, just like in the old days. The poor game looked like it had just been in War too.

That evening, Harry didn't even think about the Slytherin once.

* * *

Snape stood in front of the classroom, looking at the sixth year students. He made the number of the page of the Defence against the Dark Arts handbook appear on the blackboard with a short swing of his wand. Harry sighed. This used to be his favourite subject, but after Umbridge and Snape, he didn't look forward to it anymore.

Harry was sitting next to Malfoy and slowly flipped over the pages with one hand, while supporting his head with the other.

"Page 140, Potter," Snape bit, emphasising every syllable in his sentence. The Professor put his words into action by making the right page appear. Harry scowled. Snape was as insufferable as ever, and even though Harry had a hunch the former Potions master knew about his relationship with Malfoy, he wasn't any kinder. Harry heaved a sigh. This was going to be a long hour.

Malfoy looked caught up by the monotonous way Snape was reading from the book. Harry suppressed a yawn. He observed the blonde instead of following Snape's annoying rant about the Disarming Charm. He knew that spell pretty darn well, since he'd taught the members of Dumbledore's Army how to do it. He didn't need revision.

Malfoy's blonde eyelashes hung down as he was reading in the book. His pink lips were slightly parted, and his tongue stuck between his teeth. On his jawline Harry distinguished some forgotten blonde hairs and smiled inwardly. He was the most beautiful man he'd ever seen.

"Potter! Pay attention. At the end of the period you can show the class how to cast a successful Disarming Charm." Harry shot the professor a murderous glance. It wasn't a punishment, to be honest. Snape was trying to make a fool out of him once again, but this time, Harry had an advantage. He'd never been any good in Potions, but in Defence against the Dark Arts, Snape couldn't hurt him. At least not with today's subject.

Suddenly Harry felt a hand caress his leg. Harry's head shot in Malfoy's direction. The boy still seemed caught up in his book, but when Harry looked closely, he could see his eyes didn't move along the lines. That naughty brat! Harry tried to push his hand away, but he returned instantly.

"Malfoy," Harry whispered.

"Potter! Last warning. If you open your mouth without my permission one more time, I'll let you write two rolls of Parchment on Disarming Charms." Harry rolled his eyes demonstratively, but kept his mouth shut. Disarming Charms were so boring and easy, it would be hard to fill two rolls of Parchment on it. Malfoy's hand hadn't left its spot on his leg. It kept massaging his skin, and Harry relaxed under the touch. He would make the blonde pay. Later.

Malfoy's hand made its way to Harry's inner thigh. Harry's breathing faltered, but he didn't dare to say anything, out of fear of having to write the two roles. He tried to pay attention to Snape's words, but failed miserably. A hot wave went down his body as Malfoy neared his crotch. Please, don't, Harry thought fervently, but it didn't work. Malfoy's long slender fingers softly caressed Harry's jeans, searching for the spot of his erection. When he found it, he caressed it softly, making Harry swallow back a moan. They were in a bloody classroom. Wasn't there anyone watching?

Harry's vision blurred as Malfoy continued his actions. He couldn't pay attention when desire was growing in his abdomen. He looked at Malfoy again, seeing a small tug around his lips. The bastard was enjoying every moment of it. The blonde reached for his wand, and for a moment Harry thought Snape had ordered them to practise Disarming Charms. The thought of having a duel with that problem in his pants made Harry want to whimper. But luckily, no one else was grabbing their wand.

The button of his trousers shot open. His eyes widened in realization. Malfoy must've opened them. The Slytherin's hand made its way under Harry's boxers. Harry wanted to get up and run away, but at the same time, he was enjoying the thrill of it. Malfoy's hands felt warm against his body. Harry's breathing sped up as Malfoy played with his pubic hair. His face was red with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal. Someone must've noticed…

When Malfoy grabbed a hold of Harry's erection, the Gryffindor laid down his head in his arms. He couldn't resist any longer and let out a soft moan.

"Are we feeling unwell, Potter?" Snape asked. Malfoy's hand stopped its actions, but didn't pull away. Harry lifted his head, looking into Snape's accusing face guiltily.

"No, I'm fine."

"Then would you mind to _not _lie in my class? If I'm boring you, I could give you some extra work."

"No, no. I'm.. er… fine." That was all Harry managed to bring out. He would make Malfoy pay. Big time. Snape trotted away. Relief washed over Harry. But Malfoy didn't stop there. As soon as Snape stood in front of the classroom again, his fingers caressed the tip of Harry's hard on. Harry's abs contracted in pleasure, nearly letting slip out another sound of enjoyment.

Malfoy was unstoppable. He started moving steadily along the base. Harry arched his back, already nearing the end, because of all the tension around him. This wasn't happening. He would not have an orgasm in the middle of a classroom. But there was no turning back. Two more strokes and Harry's body tensed, contracting as he released on Malfoy's hands.

Harry looked up into amused silver eyes. With a few swings of his wand, the blonde cleaned up the mess and closed Harry's pants again. The Slytherin flashed a smug grin and winked. Harry just blinked, trying to understand what had just happened.

* * *

Harry woke up, having a sticky feeling in his pants. He opened his eyes sleepily, and shot up when he stared right into a pair of blue eyes.

"Are you okay mate?" Ron asked. "You were moaning in your sleep." Harry's cheeks turned red.

"Yeah, yeah. I had a bad dream," Harry lied. Ron gave him a compassionate glance before returning to his own bed. Harry let out a sigh. This was getting worse. He didn't need to guess what the stickiness in his pants was. He reached for his wand on the nightstand and cleaned himself up. Why was he having all these dreams about Malfoy? What if he'd been right about what Hermione would say? Could it really be possible that these weren't dreams? Were this his _memories? _Harry suppressed that thought. If he still wanted to get some sleep, he would have to stop thinking about Malfoy.

* * *

Harry was looking at the Viaduct, standing in the small valley together with his co-workers. They had already build up and fortified the base and could now start working up. That was easier said than done, since the construction of the bridge was incredibly sophisticated. It was their goal to rebuild it the exact same way, because none of them wanted to change anything to the original bridge. Harry's thoughts were interrupted by a small stone, hitting the back of his head. Harry turned around, an angry frown on his face. Malfoy was grinning at him. He pulled up both his eyebrows in a short motion and then lifted his shirt up, revealing seven inches of porcelain skin. Blond hair was visible underneath Malfoy's belly button. A hot wave washed over harry, and he felt a tingling sensation in his abdomen. That's when Harry realised what was happening and growled out in anger. The Ferret had done that on purpose! He lifted a large rock and was ready to send it to Malfoy. That would teach him!

"Harry! Put down that rock!" Hermione reprimanded, lifting up a warning finger.

"Hermione!" Harry whined.

"You're not going to hit Draco with that rock, Harry." Malfoy looked way too cheerful. Harry wanted to smash that grin off his face, either with the rock or with his bare fists. Ron shook his head and put a comforting arm around his shoulder.

"Don't worry about 'Mione, mate. When you get back your memory, you'll be glad she prevented you from killing him." Harry closed his eyes in horror, trying to calm himself down. He wanted to kick Ron in the nuts for being such a moron.

"Fine. But If I'm not allowed to throw things, then he isn't either. He started this whole thing anyway," he fired back, sounding like a four-year-old. Harry turned away from the blonde, who was still looking like he was enjoying this too much. Harry didn't know why the sight of Malfoy's bare skin made him lightheaded. It must have something to do with that bloody dream. Harry tried to ignore what had happened that night. But when the Defence against the Dark Arts class entered his mind, he couldn't help but feel a pleasurable tug around his jeans.

He'd been trying to ignore Malfoy all morning. Looking at him made him think of the playful smile around the mouth of the Malfoy from his dreams. They were the same. To be honest, practically everything about him was the same. Except for the length of his hair. The Malfoy from now looked older, which made sense, as Harry's dreams were situated around his sixth year. "_You dated Malfoy for over a year." _Hermione's voice resounded in his head. If that was true, it meant that he must've gotten together with him during his sixth year.

Harry sighed. He needed to stop this insanity. His dreams weren't memories. That just couldn't be.

* * *

As the four students made their way back into the castle, Ron and Hermione headed up the Marble Staircase, while Malfoy walked the other way, heading for the Dungeons.

"I'll catch up later," Harry quickly called after his friends. The last think he saw was a conspiratorial glance between the two friends. Annoyance burned in the back of his throat, but he ignored it. He didn't have the time to think about what Ron and Hermione expected him to do around Malfoy. He needed to talk to the blonde, in private.

"Hey Malfoy. Wait up," Harry announced himself. He figured that if he was friendly to start with, Malfoy would stay around long enough to let Harry make his statement. The Slytherin seemed surprised with Harry's presence. Harry walked next to the taller man, feeling slightly nervous about being alone with him. "I wanted to talk to you about earlier today. I need you to stop provoking me, Malfoy," Harry said calmly. As he spoke, his eyes wavered over Malfoys arms, ending on his long fingers, with perfect nails.

"What?" Malfoy barked out a short laugh. "You can't tell me what to do, Potter. Besides, I didn't ask you to look, did I?" Harry was baffled. Why was Malfoy so defensive all of a sudden? A couple of days ago, he'd been insecure and fragile, but now it looked like the old Malfoy had returned.

"As if I care. I just don't want my friends to think I'm involved with you!" A lousy come-back, but that was all Harry could say. They were making their way downstairs, into the dungeons, and Harry still marched along.

"Whatever you say Potter. I saw the desire in your eyes." Malfoy didn't look at him. He kept walking towards the Slytherin Common Room.

"Desire? For you?! Don't make me puke, Malfoy!" Harry scolded. He saw a glimpse of pain in the silver pools, but as soon as Harry thought he'd seen it, it was gone again.

"I told you I was going to make you fall in love again. You've loved me more intensely than any boyfriend I ever had, Potter. I'm sure you can't completely erase that." Harry felt a hot wave pass though his body as the blonde spoke. He was momentarily paralyzed by that comment, but then composed himself again.

"Well, give it your best shot. Don't come crying afterwards. I told you I only despise you. And that was the truth." He turned around, without looking at the former Death Eater and marched up the stairs again. If he'd turned around, he would have seen the tormented gleam in Malfoy's eyes. He knew he hadn't been honest. He didn't _despise _Malfoy. He didn't like him, but he couldn't say he hated him. Not completely.

He walked up the stairs to the ground floor again, sunken in his thoughts. He thought making that statement would make him feel better, but it didn't. He was heading for the marble staircase, when a female blonde jumped into his eye. Luna.

"Hey, Luna!" Harry called out. The girl turned around, but didn't look surprised. There were small carrots hanging on her ears. Her long hair had been tied up in a braid.

"Hi, Harry. How are you?" She gave him a small smile that reached her eyes.

"I'm good, I guess. I'm still a bit shaken up by the War," Harry shrugged. He didn't know exactly what to say to Luna, but he remembered that she was the only one he could turn to in his fifth year. She'd been a great friend.

"Thank you for what you did, Harry. My father and I always believed you could win." Harry felt a blush creeping up his face. He knew she had never doubted for a second that Harry could win the War, just like Dumbledore. Harry felt a pinch in his heart as he thought about the former Headmaster.

"I didn't do it alone, Luna. I had a lot of help from friends. From you." The Ravenclaw looked like she was going to shrug, but she didn't. She just smiled at him a faraway look in her eyes.

"How is Draco Malfoy?" she asked. Harry was taken aback. How did she know about that? Probably Neville. It looked like she was coming from upstairs, so maybe she'd been to the Gryffindor Common Room. It was not like it was a secret anymore. He'd yelled in the Great Hall that he didn't love Malfoy, so everyone presumably knew.

"Er… Not good, I guess." Luna's expression didn't change.

"You can trick the mind, but you can't fool the spirit, Harry Potter." She smiled at him one last time then started to walk away. Luna had always been a bit weird. Harry didn't know what to make of her sentence. He marched up the Marble Stairs. If he didn't hurry, Ron and Hermione would think he went down to snog Malfoy. His stomach turned at the thought, but at the same time, an exciting tug warmed him up. He tried to ban that thought.

He reached the Fat Lady and waited for her to look at him. She was caught up with her long dress, trying to flatten it out at parts. She had no idea he was there. "Laurus," Harry said, which made her look up.

"Oh, well. No time for a chat today?" she muttered before swinging open. Laurus was Latin for triumph, but Harry didn't think it was suitable for the War. Even though they had won, there was nothing victorious about it. He made his way to Ron and Hermione, but stopped halfway. His friends were sitting close to one another, practically touching. They were whispering softly, and when Harry looked closer, he could see Hermione had a soft blush on her cheeks. Ron leaned over and captured her lips in a soft kiss.

Harry didn't know what to do. He was happy they were openly together now, but he didn't know whether it was allowed for him to walk up to them. He waited a while, until he spotted Neville. There was no way he could interrupt his friends in their intimate moment.

"Hi, Neville", Harry announced himself. The boy had been talking to what looked like a second year Gryffindor, and looked up at Harry. "I never thanked you for your speech." Neville flashed him a great smile.?

"I was just talking about you," he replied, pointing to the younger boy.

"Hi there," Harry greeted, forcing a smile. "Could I talk to you in private?" He then asked Neville. Not that the boy wasn't allowed to hear what he was going to say, but he didn't feel like being stared at with admiration. It reminded him too much of Collin Creevey, who had passed away during the war.

"What's up?" Neville seemed to think he _was _going to talk about something important, but Harry had only walked up to him because he didn't want to disturb his friends. He should have gone upstairs.

"I saw Luna. Did you talk to her already?"

"Yeah, she arrived this morning. She's going to be in my group." The pride in Neville's voice made Harry's face light up. They were into each other, Harry could tell. Ron had Hermione, Neville had Luna and Harry… he had to settle for Malfoy. That, honestly, spoiled his mood.

"That's great. I,… er… I'll go upstairs. Nice talking to you, Neville." Neville looked confused, which was normal because Harry had asked him to talk in private and was running off now. The Survivor wanted to be alone for a while. His thoughts went back to his conversation with Luna. She always seemed to talk nonsense, but Harry knew better. Whatever she said, it made sense. Sooner or later. After all, she was a Ravenclaw for a reason. But what did she mean by '_you can trick the mind but you can't fool the spirit'_? Did this involve Malfoy? The Forgetfulness Charm? Tricking the mind would signify, erasing someone's mind. Pretending it never happened. Fooling the spirit? Harry had no idea. What was the difference between the mind and the spirit?

Harry sat down on his bed, staring in the distance. Why did her quote have such an effect on him? He couldn't figure out what it meant. Then it hit him. The spirit must be his subconsciousness… even though he had forgotten about Malfoy, some part of him still knows he's been in love with him. Was that the reason he was having all these dreams? Was that the reason for his confusion?

Harry lay down on the bed. Why did everything have to be so difficult? He was looking for answers without knowing the right questions to ask. It felt like two worlds were colliding. The worst part about it was that didn't know which world he was in anymore…

**To be continued…**

**If you want, leave a review!**


	5. Chapter 5: Date?

**Hi everyone! Chapter 5 is up! ^-^ I had a hard time finishing it up for today. I've got some resits next week and I don't think I'll make the next deadline... So, the next chapter will be a little postponed, but I promise to update as soon as I can! **

**For now, enjoy!**

Chapter 5  
Date?

_"In dreams we enter a world that's entirely our own."  
- Albus Dumbledore -_

"THAT'S IT, POTTER!" Harry was just trying to make his way to the Great Hall, to have dinner when Malfoy jumped out on his out of the blue. He pushed Harry back against the nearest wall, slightly hidden from the entrance to the Great Hall, but still visible enough for students to see them.

"Malfoy! What are you doing?!" Harry exclaimed, astonished.

"I _have_ to kiss you, Potter. I can't stand it anymore." Malfoy's eyes were dark grey with lust and desire. A wave of pleasure washed over Harry, which took him by surprise as well. He shouldn't be happy with the fact that Malfoy wanted to assault him! But before Harry's slow-working mind could make a decision about what to do next, Malfoy leaned in, rudely capturing his lips.

Harry tried to pull away, but Malfoy prevented him from going anywhere. He wrapped an arm over his shoulder and buried his hands in Harry's dark hair. Suddenly, Harry's legs turned into jelly. Harry stopped moving away and slowly leaned in, liking the way Malfoy's lips felt against his own. It resembled the kiss from his dreams, but it felt more real. Malfoy deepened the kiss, licking Harry's lips as to ask for entrance. When the latter didn't reply, the blonde licked again, softly forcing Harry to open his mouth.

Harry was paralysed. Malfoy's tongue touched his softly, and a deep moan rumbled in the back of Harry's throat. He bucked his hips forward, pushing himself against the taller man. Malfoy's hand slid down his back, supporting his lower back with a kind of strength Harry didn't know he had.

When Malfoy broke the kiss for air, Harry turned the blonde around pushing him against the wall. He was confused. Disoriented.

"What was that for?!" Harry exclaimed. He felt betrayed. Used. Turned on. He was still breathing heavily, and he forced himself not to kiss the blonde.

"Don't tell me you didn't like that, Potter," Malfoy replied, full of self-esteem. The left corner of his mouth rose slightly, into a cheeky grin.

"But what does it prove, Malfoy?!" Harry felt tears jump into his eyes and fought them back instantly. He was not going to cry in front of Malfoy. Not because he'd just been kissed, like no one had ever kissed him before. It wasn't anything like kissing Cho. It was intense, urgent, tender, rough and confusing at the same time.

The blonde seemed affected by Harry's comment. He looked at his feet, avoiding Harry's gaze. "I'm sorry, Potter. I just… miss you." With those words, Malfoy stepped around him and left.

Harry looked at the rock wall, becoming more and more aggravated. He kept staring at the wall until he realised it must look very odd. He wasn't hungry anymore so he just exited the Castle and went for a walk.

* * *

Harry made his way to the seventh floor. He'd tracked Malfoy on the Marauder's map and knew he was heading to the Room of Requirement. When he spotted his Slytherin labelled Hogwarts' sweater, he ran up behind him, jumping on his back.

"Surprise!" he shouted. Malfoy brought out a yelp and gasped for air as Harry held onto his neck. The blonde reached for Harry's legs positioning him in the middle of his back.

"What are you doing?" the Slytherin exclaimed with a frustrated sigh.

"I saw you come up here. I might as well join you," Harry whispered against Malfoy's ear. His vanilla scent penetrated his nose, sending a tingling sensation through his body. The spell of the blonde made Harry want to push him against one of the ancient walls and make out with him but he withheld himself. When they neared the Room of Requirement Harry could hear Malfoy panting. Malfoy put him down and harry looked at him for a while, admiring the contrast of the silver eyes and the blonde eyelashes.

"You have no idea how beautiful you are," Harry whispered, more to himself than to Malfoy.

"Come on, silly lovebird. I got work to do," Malfoy interrupted. However, Harry could see he quickly covered up the blush on his cheeks. They entered the Room of Hidden things.

"Do you really have to do this task?" Harry sighed upon seeing the destructed Vanishing cabinet.

"We're talking about You Know Who, here Potter. You really want me dead?" Malfoy mocked playfully.

"No, of course not. Why do you think I'm helping out?" Harry looked at the boy, suddenly realizing what he'd done. He'd fallen in love with this boy. As soon as Voldemort would know, he'd kill him, to hurt Harry. The last thing he wanted was losing another loved one. But Malfoy… he wasn't just a friend. Or a relative. "What if Voldemort finds out?" Harry voiced his fears. He saw Malfoy wince at the name.

"I can't believe you keep using that name," the blonde muttered while inspecting the cabinet.

"Fear for a name only increases the fear for the thing itself. That's what Hermione once told me. I don't fear him."

"I just think he's going to use it against you one time." Harry thought about that for a while, trying to think of a way how Voldemort could possibly get back to him because he used his name. He then let the thought drift away, observing Malfoy some more.

"You call that helping out?" Malfoy noted dryly, raising an eyebrow at him. Harry chuckled, flushing because he'd been caught staring.

"How do you fix a Vanishing cabinet?"

"That's the tricky part. The magic does the job, but this one's giving me a lot of trouble."

"You fixed the one at Borgin and Burkes as well?"

"Yes. The problem with this one, is that he can't come back."

"And that's what we want for the invasion," Harry finished Malfoy's sentence. Malfoy nodded. Harry could read from his body language he wasn't looking forward to it. He suddenly felt sorry for the boy. He had to suffer a lot for being a Malfoy. And Merlin knew he hadn't choses his name. Harry hadn't either. "Could it be because you can't apparate in Hogwarts?" Harry asked. Malfoy looked up at him, a thoughtful frown on his face.

"Yeah. Maybe."

"So what if he finds out? You didn't answer my question," Harry said. Malfoy looked up again, with faked annoyance.

"You'll have to make sure he doesn't. Otherwise…" the blonde trailed off "Just… use the Occlumency lessons Severus taught you. That should do the trick."

"You know about those lessons?" Harry asked. He still wasn't used to Malfoy using Snape's first name.

"Of course. He's my Godfather. Besides, I always wanted to know everything about you." Malfoy moved both his eyebrows up and down playfully and Harry kicked him.

"You creep." Harry pushed the blonde over against the Vanishing cabinet and kissed him. Malfoy's protest stopped instantly. At first the kiss was playful, but then it developed. Harry felt an exciting tug in his abdomen and pushed Malfoy against the Vanishing Cabinet with his body. He felt Malfoy's tongue enter his mouth, and moaned in reply. He buried his nails in Malfoy's back and held the blonde tight. When they pulled away, Malfoy's lips were red and swollen. Harry drowned in grey pools, then leaned in again. His hand disappeared under Malfoy's sweater searching for a pink nipple.

"Come on, Potter. I need to finish that cabinet." Malfoy's voice wasn't louder than a whisper.

"Finish it later. This is the only place where we can be alone." He tugged at the sweater, urging the blonde to take it off. Malfoy gave in. Harry placed a soft kiss on Malfoy's lip, kissing his way down onto his cheekbone. It led down to a slender neck which then curved up into two solid shoulders. He licked his collarbone and then took his left nipple into his mouth. Malfoy breathed heavily, giving Harry a feeling of triumph. He let go of the nipple and looked up at his boyfriend.

"What'you got there?" He questioned, pointing down to Malfoy's trousers

"Are you sure you can handle that, Potter?" Malfoy whispered huskily. Harry grinned touching it with one finger teasingly.

"I love you, Malfoy."

"I love you too, Potter."

* * *

Harry woke up with a dreadful feeling in his stomach. He'd dreamed about Malfoy again. He could convince himself it was because of Malfoy's kiss but then he'd be lying. He'd dreamed about him way before their first kiss.

Harry started dressing, still sunken in his thoughts. He knew it couldn't be just dreams. They felt too real. The scariest part though, was that this time he had been the one to take action and not Malfoy. He felt a pinch in his stomach. At first he didn't know why he felt so shitty but then he realised he felt sorry for Malfoy. It must be really hard facing someone who had once loved you so much. How would it feel to have Hermione hate him, just because a fool messed with her mind? Harry shook his head. How did he end up this way? He'd kissed Malfoy, started having hot dreams about him that he truly enjoyed having – apart from the annoyance that came with it – and now he was feeling sorry.

Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived and Turned Into an Emotionally Unstable Wreck. Harry made his way downstairs. "Hi," he greeted his friends. They were having a soft conversation at the bottom of the staircase.

"Wow. You look great," Hermione said sarcastically. She and Ron both got up and walked up to him to get breakfast together. The Gryffindor Common Room was practically empty.

"Thanks Mione. You don't look bad yourself," Harry retorted moodily.

"Did you have nightmares again?"

"No. I'm just,… struggling with the Malfoy thing." Hermione gave him a compassionate look, which Harry wanted to wipe off with a nasty comment, but he refrained himself because he knew she meant it well.

"Let's get some food in our stomachs," Ron announced, motioning them to continue to the Portrait hole. When they arrived there were a number students already having breakfast, chatting quietly with one another. Others were still becoming awake, trying to cover up their yawns. Harry spotted Malfoy at the Gryffindor table – again – and sat down next to the blonde. His left arm became sparkly and Harry tried not to accidently nudge Malfoy with it.

"Morning, Malfoy." His own friendly tone surprised Harry.

"Morning, Potter." Malfoy's eyes examined him. He clearly hadn't forgotten about the day before, neither had Harry. "_I just… miss you." _Malfoy's broken voice replayed in his mind as he reached out for the cereal.

"You feel like constructing today?" Harry asked, in the most civilised way he could.

"Yeah, I guess. Never thought we'd become architects, but well. It has to be done."

"I like being outdoors, so I don't mind. I heard the Quidditch pitch is turning out great. Would you want to do some lapses with me this evening? Just to stretch out our muscles." Malfoy looked surprised at Harry's question.

"S… Sure," he replied. Ron and Hermione had already taken their seats in front of Harry and looked at him like he'd just grown three heads. Harry avoided their gaze. He didn't know why he'd invited Malfoy. Just the _two _of them, for that matter. But he knew the dreams wouldn't stop and he wanted to give it a shot. He just had to give Malfoy a chance. And when that didn't work out, nobody would have to say Harry hadn't tried.

Right?

* * *

The Quidditch pitch was empty, apart from a few birds flying around one of the Golden circles. The volunteers had done a great job on the pitch. The grass had been sown again and the stands were coming along great. Harry realised there was a lot more work to do at the Viaduct and shook his head. They could have used some more helpers there.

Nonetheless, Harry realised McGonnagal had given them a separate group with a purpose. If Harry had to work with other students, they would constantly ask questions. It wouldn't have been so peaceful. So quiet. Harry loved the outdoors. The freedom of it gave him renewed energy. He mounted his broom, as Malfoy was still nowhere to be seen and flew off.

As soon as he hit the sky, all his worries disappeared. His shoulders felt ten times lighter. Harry didn't know he'd missed flying so much. He made some dangerous loopings, challenging himself as he chased after an invisible Snitch. He'd lost track of time when all of a sudden a green flash passed him by. Malfoy. Instantly Harry felt as if they were second-years again, racing against one another to win for their team.

"Hey Malfoy! Your flying skills haven't gotten better, have they?" Harry teased. He smashed his body against Malfoy's to knock him out of balance and flew away again. Malfoy's body had felt warm against his, but Harry tried to ignore it. Even up here in the sky, he wasn't safe for his hormones.

"I'd love to swap brooms and see if you can still win then, Potter," Malfoy shouted, to make sure Harry heard him over the wind.

"You want to take my Firebolt for a ride?" Harry flew down and waited for Malfoy to join him. The blonde jumped off his broom swiftly, his green cloak flapping around him as he walked up to Harry. The green colour matched his eyes perfectly and Harry quickly looked away. "Here you go," he muttered to his shoes, offering the former Slytherin his broom. The blonde mounted Sirius' present with elegance.

"As if you're going to win now," Harry muttered. The boys exchanged a challenging look and then Malfoy flew off.

Harry followed suit, trying to catch up to his Firebolt. He was behind at first, but Malfoy didn't know the Firebolt as well as Harry did and wasn't very accurate. Harry cut off his passage and smiled smugly. He accelerated, creating distance between them. He then flew towards the ground gaining speed. When he was about to hit the grass, he pulled up again, flying away.

Malfoy on the other hand, crashed against the floor with a painful smack.

"I win." Harry landed and helped Malfoy up. His hands felt warm in his, and he quickly let go again. Why did his touch have such a strange effect on him? Malfoy handed him back the broom. He didn't seem to mind Harry had won.

"You're good, Potter," he complimented. Harry felt his cheeks turn red.

"No, I'm not," he retorted. "You just suck, that's all." The joke hung between them like a sweet scent and made them both laugh. Harry looked at Malfoy. He had a beautiful smile, his white teeth formed a straight row. His silver eyes sparkled with lights of joy. The smile was contagious, and Harry smiled back at him. They sat down at the nearest stand, a comfortable silence hanging between them.

"You know, I never thought we could get along," Harry said, the smile still tugging up the corners of his mouth.

"You're not so bad when I get to know you, Potter." Harry chuckled.

"You're not so bad yourself, Malfoy. I had a good time."

"I want to apologize for… what happened the day before yesterday. I… er… shouldn't have attacked you."

"I'm a grown man, Malfoy. I can defend myself. Besides, it made me think. I don't know what to say about it just yet, but I'm working on it." Malfoy seemed pleased with that bit of information, and Harry fell silent again. He never imagined sitting next to Malfoy, watching the sun go down. They'd been out here the entire evening and had missed dinner in the Great Hall.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow?" Malfoy looked up at Harry. He'd been drowning in his thoughts as well.

"Yeah." Both men got up and walked back to the castle. Harry didn't say anything, scared to ruin their lovely evening. Their ways separated at the Marble staircase. Harry waved at the blonde before going up. Then it suddenly hit him.

This might as well have been a _date. _

**To be continued...**


	6. Chapter 6: Hogsmeade

**I know it's been too long! Please forgive me. I had a couple of resits and I couldn't muster the strength to write another chapter. But here it is, finally Chapter 6… Sorry to have kept you waiting!**

Chapter 6  
Hogsmeade

""_You are protected by your ability to love." – Albus Dumbledore_

Harry turned around in his bed, unable to sleep. His thoughts kept trailing back to the Quidditch pitch, a few days ago. It had been so easy to just sit there with Malfoy. If someone would have told him he'd have a fun time with the blonde, he'd say they'd gone crazy. But now it felt like he was the one going crazy.

After tossing and turning for what seemed like hours, Harry sat upright in his bed. The other Gryffindors were soundly asleep and Harry cursed inwardly yet again. Was he the only one being kept from a good night rest? Bloody Malfoy and his stupid silver eyes. Would he be asleep?

Harry smiled a crooked grin and squatted in front of his trunk. The Marauders Map was hidden between some old socks Dobby had given him. Harry felt a pinch in his chest. Dobby had sacrificed himself for Harry, something he'd never wanted anyone to do.

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good," Harry whispered. Slowly, the Hogwarts' Grounds appeared on the old parchment. "Lumos," Harry muttered, trying to read the tiny name labels inside the Slytherin Dormitory. There was no _Draco Malfoy. _Harry frowned. Where was he at? He browsed through the map, checking the dungeons, the first floor all the way up to the seventh floor. After checking the Quidditch Pitch, Hagrid's Hut and the Lake, Harry became impatient. This couldn't be. Malfoy _had _to be on the map! He started all over again when suddenly something hit him. The Room of Requirement! It wasn't visible on the map! Harry got out of bed again, put away the Marauders Map with a short 'Mischief Managed' and looked for his father's Cloak.

He exited the Boys Dormitory as quietly as he could. He descended the stairs to the deserted Common Room. When he pushed open the portrait hole, he could hear the Fat Lady mutter in her sleep ('_No, I can't let you in, you first have to sing the school song')_. He looked around the dark Castle and immediately felt eleven years old again, wearing the Invisibility Cloak. He took a few shortcuts and arrived on the seventh floor. No sign of Malfoy so far.

He walked past the empty wall three times, thinking about a place where he could hide. That should do the trick. At the bottom of the bare wall a tiny doorway started to appear. Harry waited until he could enter. He had gotten lucky. He had successfully entered the Room of Hidden Things. The only thing he needed to do now was find Malfoy… But… What for? Harry shrugged and started making his way through the large room, stumbling across stuff that people of different eras had left here. A large part of the things that had been kept there were destroyed by the fire, but there was still a lot intact. It had been completely restored, just like the rest of the castle. The East Wing was the only part of the castle that hadn't been reconstructed yet, as well as the outside Courtyards.

Well, to be honest, Harry hadn't expected to see what he saw when he turned around the corner. The corridor led to the Vanishing Cabinet, which was in fact what Harry had been looking for. He had no idea it had survived the fire, but then again, these objects were all magical. In front of the Cabinet, however, sat Draco Malfoy. He hugged his legs to his chest, soft whimpers breaking the eerie silence. Malfoy seemed… broken. Harry stepped forward, feeling completely paralysed. What was he supposed to do? Should he say something? Should he let the man know he was there? Malfoy's shoulder shook. They seemed crushed under the weight of his sadness. A sharp sting made him realise it was _his _fault Malfoy was sad.

"M-Malfoy?" Harry asked softly. He had no clue whether Malfoy would appreciate his presence. The blonde looked up, with a teary silver gaze. As soon as his eyes rested on Harry an angry gleam appeared. Automatically, Harry took a step backwards. "I'm sorry…" he whispered, not knowing what else to say.

"Why are you here?" Malfoy tried to sound strong, but his voice broke in the middle of his sentence, making Harry's heart break. This was entirely his fault.

"I couldn't sleep." That didn't explain why he was there exactly, but Harry didn't feel like going into detail.

Malfoy looked away. "Me neither," his voice was still shaky, but Harry saw he was trying his hardest to stop. His eyes were red and puffy, and harry realised he must've been there a long time. The Survivor stepped forward, hesitantly at first, but then took a seat next to Malfoy. Their legs brushed past one another, making Harry scoot a little further away.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked cautiously. He didn't know whether that was the right thing to ask.

"I guess," Malfoy replied. He glanced in Harry's direction, but averted his gaze as soon as he saw that Harry was observing him. He licked his lips and wiped his tears away again, causing his cheeks to take a deeper shade of red. Harry looked at the blonde hesitantly. He then leaned forward, pulling the boy's arms away from his knees, enveloping him in a hug. Malfoy wrapped his arms around Harry's waist burying his face in his neck. His face was wet, and his shoulders started trembling again. A soft sob escaped his mouth and all Harry could do was hold him closer.

Gradually, Malfoy's sobs became harder, tears falling from his cheeks onto Harry's shirt. Harry caressed Malfoy's back tenderly, trying to comfort the blonde. They sat there for a while, neither of them speaking. Malfoy felt hot against Harry and when the boy stopped crying, they still remained where they were.

"I'm sorry that I hurt you, Malfoy," Harry whispered. He placed a quick peck on the top of Draco's head. His shampoo triggered a series of pleasurable feelings, and Harry felt like he had a déjà vu. Seeing Malfoy like this made Harry angry. The only thing he wanted to do right now was at least give the blonde a chance.

* * *

The sun was scorching their backs, as the four students continued the reconstruction of Viaduct. They'd gotten very high already. A levitation charm kept a platform up in the air, so they could easily reach the high parts.

Harry sat back, wiping the sweat of his forehead. It was too hot to work today, given that Hermione had already cast a cooling charm over them. Malfoy was lifting one of the larger rocks, his face torn up in concentration. Harry admired his magical power. He'd never thought Malfoy was so strong in Spells. He always had good grades in Potions, but Harry suspected Snape to offer him extra credit.

After catching himself staring at Malfoy's muscular back for too long, he got up and got to work again. Hermione and Ron were snuggling up on each other and Harry suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. He was very happy for his friends, but on the other side, he felt kind of left behind.

"Hey Malfoy," Harry started. The blonde looked up at him, a questioning look on his face. Harry hadn't forgotten about their intimate moment together a few days ago, but neither of them had talked about it. Harry still felt Malfoy's hot tears against his shirt. The watery grey gaze was burned on his retina.

"Yeah?" Malfoy asked. His cheeks were red from the effort and he stopped his actions for a moment to listen to Harry.

"Er… Hermione and Ron… You know, we're going to Hogsmeade tomorrow. Would you feel like coming? Since… er… Since they started dating I feel a bit left out so… I…-" Harry stopped stammering when Malfoy interrupted.

"Okay," he said. Harry's face lit up.

"Really? That would be great!" Harry had no idea why his answer made him beam with happiness all of a sudden. He'd just asked Malfoy along to be polite. Right?

Harry shook his head to get his mind straight. He nodded curtly in Malfoy's direction and then continued the heavy lifting. Harry tried to convince himself he'd just asked him along because he felt a little lonely with Ron and Hermione wanting to spend time without them. But then it downed on him he could have asked Neville or Luna as well…

* * *

Harry was waiting for Malfoy at the Entrance. Hermione and Ron were standing next to him. The curly haired woman looked at him with an investigating smile while Harry tried to ignore her. He tried to focus on the corridor that led to the dungeons, but Hermione wouldn't let him get away so easily.

"Why did you ask Malfoy again?" She looked at him with a strange shimmering in her eyes. Harry just shrugged.

"I didn't feel like going alone, that's all." Her knowing look made Harry want to curse her, but just then, Malfoy arrived. He was wearing a green blouse combined with a light grey tight fitting jeans, which matched his eyes.

"Did I keep you waiting?" Malfoy asked. His soft blonde locks were still a little wet from showering. Harry shook his head.

"No, not at all." He tried to block the memory of the dream where Malfoy was showering in the Quidditch dressing rooms but failed miserably. What was happening to him? He was definitely losing his mind.

The four students started marching to Hogsmeade, two by two. Harry was very aware of Malfoy walking next to him. For the umpteenth time that day, he cursed himself for asking the blonde. He should have known it was a bad idea. Neither of them said much until they reached the small village.

"You feel like joining us for a bottle of Butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks?" Hermione asked. Harry hesitated. Ron looked at him with a meaningful look and Harry knew he would kill him if Harry said yes.

"No, no… I… er… we'll head for Honeydukes first."

"Okay then, have fun you two," Hermione responded warmly. Harry nodded curtly, not feeling like returning her friendly goodbye. If Ron and Hermione kept dating, would it be like this all the time? A sting of jealousy went through Harry's stomach. He shook his head and focussed on Malfoy.

"Where do you want to go?" Harry asked.

"Honeyduke's is nice," Malfoy responded. Harry looked at the man, sunken in his thoughts as they started walking again. He didn't know anything to say, but he didn't want to remain silent the entire time either.

"I never thought we'd walk through Hogsmeade together, you know? The first time we were here you nearly revealed me, 'cause I wasn't allowed to be here." Harry smiled at the memory. They'd been so young then, caring about such foolish things. Not being allowed to go to Hogsmeade for example.

"Yeah. You really scared me. I'm still not at ease when I'm near the Shrieking Shag," Malfoy muttered darkly. He had a half smile around his lips.

"It was never haunted, actually."

"Yeah. I know about Lupin. I understand it wasn't easy for him."

"He was the last close relation I had to my family," Harry paused, sadness washing over him. He didn't want to break down in front of Malfoy, even though Malfoy had been crying on his shoulder a few days ago. "I'm glad I got to know him."

"You have a good heart, Potter." Harry looked to his left side, where Malfoy was walking and lifted an eyebrow.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry's sceptic comment sounded rude after Malfoy's nice words, but Malfoy didn't seem to notice.

"You're a good person. That's what I like about you." They had almost reached Honeydukes, but Harry was too caught up in their conversation to notice.

"You _like _me?" Harry questioned in disbelief. He quirked both of his eyebrows.

"No… I don't like you," Malfoy's reply surprised him. He didn't expect Malfoy to actually say he liked him, but to blurt out a denial so rudely. Harry felt taken aback. "… I love you." The words were as silent as a whisper, as soft as a breeze. If Harry hadn't been staring at Malfoy's pink lips he wouldn't have heard what he was saying.

_I love you. _Three simple words, yet they were powerful enough to disarm Harry. The Gryffindor had stopped walking and looked at Malfoy, lost for words.

"I…"

"It's okay. You don't have to say anything," Malfoy responded. The blonde was observing Harry with a glimpse of admiration.

"But… Why? There's nothing special about me. Especially not since Voldemort's dead and everything's gone back to normal."

"You saved the world, Potter. If that's not special, I don't know what is." Harry knew Malfoy's comment was well-intended, but it set his teeth on edge.

"I don't want to be special because I got people killed. I want to be special because I'm _me! _And now that the War is finally over and I'm not the Chosen One anymore, I'll always be the Survivor, the Boy Who Lived and Killed Voldemort. I'll never be loved because of who I really am!" Without knowing it, Harry had gone from talking to shouting. He was screaming at the man who'd just told him he loved him. To be honest, he was just scared. Scared to be loved. Malfoy was coming too close, and Harry was pushing him away.

"Calm down, 's no need to shout."

"I DON'T CARE! You _hated _me all this time. All of my life you have never even _liked _me! And now you love me?"

"It's complicated. We used to date, remember?" Malfoy's calm and composed tone mady Harry rage with fury.

"As a matter of fact, I don't remember, Malfoy. Can't you tell?! This is stupid! I'll _never_ remember!"

"Please. Stop shouting. I didn't mean to scare you. Just… calm down." Scare who? Harry hadn't said anything about being scared. Malfoy placed a comforting arm on Harry's shoulder, and Harry waited for the blonde to continue, feeling confused. "You know, this is what I love about you. You don't care what people think. You just do what you think is right. You start screaming in the middle of High Street, not caring what people might say. I was always afraid of what people would say. I spoke to please my father. To please others around you. You taught me how to care about myself, Potter."

Harry remained quiet, giving Malfoy the time to talk. They had halted in the middle of the street. People walked around them, sometimes shaking their heads or looking at them with disapproving looks, but the two boys didn't care.

"Don't you understand? I always hated you for being the Boy Who Lived. For being famous without having to do anything to earn it. But then I got to know you. I saw you for who you really are – just a boy, who had to carry the same weight that I had. People expected you to be a hero, just like my father expected me to make him proud. We're not that different, Potter." Malfoy paused again, looking around. "Let me buy you some chocolates to make up, okay?" Harry nodded, unable to compose a worthy answer. They crossed the street and entered Honeydukes together. Harry was still thinking about Malfoy's words. He had been out of line. Why had he acted so crazy all of a sudden?

"I'm sorry for losing it," Harry whispered.

"Don't be. You like Toffees?" Harry had never seen Malfoy so cheerful before. At first, Harry wanted to continue on the subject, but then let it go. He looked at the candy the blonde was pointing at and shook his head.

"No. I had too much of those at Hagrid's. I prefer to give them a wide birth, if you know what I mean." Malfoy chuckled in reply. "I bet Ron wouldn't want those jelly Slugs either. He's hated slugs ever since he tried to make you barf them up."

"Yeah. That was funny." Harry shot the blonde a playful glare, but Malfoy wasn't intimidated. "Just admit it. He tried to curse me and got hit by his own spell. It's bittersweet." The raven-haired man shot Malfoy another deathglare that would even make Bellatrix Lestrange quiver. When Malfoy met Harry's eyes again, he quickly shut his mouth. "The No Melt Ice Cream is delicious. I used to have it all the time at home."

Harry rolled his eyes. "You're good at changing subjects." Nevertheless, Harry offered the Slytherin a smile, to let him know he wasn't angry about it. "The only place I ever had Ice Cream was at Florean Fortescue. And for dessert at Hogwarts. Before I arrived here, the only thing I'd ever eaten was a watery lemon sherbet. It's a shame they closed Florean, though." The two boys marched on through the tiny place.

"You like Chocolates?" The Chocolate assortment was enormous. The display contained many shelves and was stacked up to the ceiling. There were Chocoballs, Chocolate Cauldrons, Chocolate Wands and Skeletons.

"Chocolate Frogs are my favourite. I still keep the cards," Harry replied.

"I'll buy you a box of those," Malfoy decided, pointing to a large gift box of Chocolate Frogs.

"You don't have to buy me anything. Really."

"Shush," Malfoy muttered. Without saying anything else, he grabbed the tower of Chocolate frogs and went to the check out. Harry shook his head, looking around the small shop while waiting for the blonde. He was having a good time. He'd expected the trip to be boring without Ron and Hermione. Speaking of which, they were probably in a quiet corner of the Three Broomsticks, sharing a hot cocoa and kissing each other's hand. Harry pulled a face.

"Ready?" Malfoy returned with the box stuffed into a bag. "I'll carry that," he said with a wink.

"You really shouldn't have,…" Harry started to protest. Malfoy just shrugged.

"Where do you want to go now?"

"Well, I wanted to go to the Three Broomsticks but Hermione and Ron might still be there. I don't want it to be awkward…"

"Why would it be awkward?" Malfoy's question made Harry flinch.

"I don't know… You know what, let's go. If they really wanted to kiss and cuddle they should have gone to Madame Puddifoot's." Harry exited Honeydukes and made his way back to the Three Broomsticks.

"I've never been there," Malfoy said with a mixture of surprise and curiosity.

"You wouldn't want to. It's a cramped pinkish place for lovebirds. Makes me thing about Umbridges office." Harry shuddered in memory and looked at Malfoy, who was smiling at him. The warm smile made Harry's bones tingle with sensation. "What?" he asked.

Malfoy's smile widened. "Nothing. I'm just… looking at you."

"You're not _just_ looking."

"I'm just looking. But I want to ravish you, Potter. Stop being so damn cute." A blush crept up Harry's face. He looked away, avoiding silver eyes. He felt butterflies fluttering in his belly and realised he felt too comfortable in Malfoy's presence.

Was he falling in love?

**To be continued…  
Please review!**


	7. Chapter 7: Moments

**I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry! This is all I have for chapter 7. I know it's very short, but I thought I'd post it instead of letting you wait for it. Please don't be angry :( **

**I'm not getting a lot of response on this story, which might be one of the reasons why I don't write on it as often as I should. For now, enjoy, and if you've got some time to leave a review, I would very much appreciate it!**

Chapter 7  
Moments

_"Dumbledore's favorite solution, love, which he claimed conquered death, though love did not stop him falling from the tower and breaking like an old waxwork? Love, which did not prevent me from stamping out your Mudblood mother like a cockroach, Potter"  
- Lord Voldemort - _

Harry stared into grey eyes, the cold stare numbing his heart. His pointy features were framed by long platinum blonde hair. Even though his physical appearance couldn't be more resembling to the boy Harry had fallen in love with, father and son were dissimilar. How was it possible that somebody so intensely cruel had raised his son to become a brave man. Disgust filled Harry's stomach by looking at the Death Eater.

"Harry Potter. You think you have won, don't you?" Lucius was standing so close, Harry could feel his breath fall on his face. He resisted the urge to turn his gaze away, instead he thought of a worthy reply.

"What's your problem, Lucius?" Harry growled. He spat out the man's name as if it had left a bad taste in his mouth. Grey eyes shone venomously. Harry just wanted to smash the filthy smirk off the scumbag's face.

"_You _are my problem, Potter. The Whole World will soon find out how you killed The Dark Lord. But that's not what bothers me. You know what I'm talking about, don't you Potter?" Harry looked confused, a tiny bulb of fear boiling in the back of his throat. Battling Voldemort had made him less vigilant, and with terror, he realized what Lucius came here to do.

"You want to kill me, is that it?" Harry asked darkly. Lucius' laugh was as cold as the grey metal in his eyes. When he shook his head, his long hair moved along. He lifted his chin and the mechanical smile disappeared from his face.

"No, Potter. I want you to stay away from my son." Draco? How had Lucius found out about them? They had kept it a secret all this time. Harry felt uneasy. He had no idea what Lucius was planning to do. Knowing what he was capable off frightened Harry even more. "I can read from your face, Potter. You know very well what I'm referring too, don't you? Now, I don't want to hurt my son. I tried to change his mind, but he refuses to listen to me. So I came up with a solution." He wasn't going to hurt Draco? That set Harry's mind at easy. Lucius couldn't kill him, because that would hurt Draco indirectly… Except for one thing… Harry's stomach contracted painfully when he realized Lucius could just make it look like he'd died while killing Voldemort.

Harry could see Lucius was sensing his anxiety and pulled up his guard. "And that is? You won't change my mind either, Lucius. I love Malfoy and there's nothing you can do to change that." Lucius' high laugh broke the eerie silence. Harry knew something was coming. He tried looking for his wand to be able to defend himself but was too slow.

"Harry Potter. Mindless fool. You have no idea. OBLIVIATE!" A white flash blinded Harry completely. It was as if his life passed before his eyes. Was this how it felt to die? No, that couldn't be, Lucius hadn't used the right spell. Just before everything else started to fade, a last memory latched itself to Harry's brain. Antonin Dolohov looked at him, but he couldn't move because of the petrifying charm. "Obliviate" Hermione whispered. A white line came out of Dolohov's temple. The only time he'd seen something like that before was when Dumbledore looked at his own memories in the Pensieve. Dolohov would not remember coming to the pub.

No! Draco!

* * *

Harry woke up, bathing in sweat, panting heavily. He felt as if he'd run for hours. Slowly, the dream trickled back inside his brain. Lucius. The Forgetfullness Charm. Harry closed his eyes in horror. He knew that this hadn't been a dream. It was one of his memories. Even though it wasn't new to him that Lucius had been the cause to this all, it was confronting. It took him a while to calm down.

Harry got up. It was too late to go back to sleep now. It was early and the other Gryffindors were still asleep. He got dressed and exited the Gryffindor Common room. His feet brought him outside. He marched onto the Hogwarts' grounds. He passed the Viaduct, which was almost completed now. A lot of hard work had gone into the construction and Harry smiled satisfied. He walked on and reached the Owlery. There weren't many owls present. Most of them had slept somewhere else. But now that the building was completed again, they gradually started coming back. Harry entered, thinking about Hedwig. His owl had given its life for him, and there had been nothing he could do to save her. A sharp sting of pain cut through his heart. He missed her. Seeing all these owls didn't make it any better.

"Sending a letter?" a familiar voice spoke. Harry turned around, startled.

"No… I just came here… I was taking a walk." Malfoy looked at him, a small smile plastered on his face.

"I was sending a letter to my mother. She's staying at the Manor all by herself and I keep her updated on the progress. And on you." Again, Malfoy observed him with that crooked grin.

"You tell her about me?" Harry questioned, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. Why was Narcissa interested in him?

"About us, actually. She really wants us to get back together." Harry smiled sheepishly, his face turning as red as a tomato.

"I didn't know she liked me."

"Are you kidding me? She saved your life, Potter." Malfoy walked up to the nearest owl and tried to keep it still so he could bind the letter to its paw.

"Just to know if _you _were alright. If you hadn't been, then I guess I would have been dead." Harry shrugged and eyed the owl Malfoy was holding still. The yellow-eyed creature looked at Harry expectantly, and Harry closed his eyes for a second, trying to block the memory of his Hedwig. She could always see right through him.

"Is that your version or the real version of what happened?" Malfoy asked crossly. Harry looked up at the blonde. The question triggered a wave of anger.

"How am I supposed to know?! I don't even know what the real version would be like, let alone that I would be able to tell the difference between the two!" Harry snapped. Malfoy looked hurt, and instantly he felt sorry for taking it out on the Slytherin. It wasn't his fault. Harry took a few calming breaths.

"I'm sorry. It's just… I had a dream about your father." Harry tried changing the subject. It was a lot to take in that Narcissa actually cared about him.

"My father? What was it about?" Malfoy's eyebrows shot up in question.

"It was about… You know.. er… It wasn't really a dream. Sometimes I dream about what I think are memories. Your father is the one who cast the spell… you know…The forgetfullness Charm." Harry trailed off, fidgeting with his clothes. "I just thought you should know," he whispered then. A vail of sadness washed over Malfoy's face, and instantly Harry regretted telling the man about it.

"He did this to you?" Malfoy mumbled, more to himself than to Harry. "He did this to us?" Malfoy's silver gaze filled with tears, but he fought them off again.

"It's not your fault, Malfoy. I just thought you should know he- I shouldn't have told you. I'm sorry."

"No, no. I'm glad you told me. I – I should have known! All this time I was under the impression that the Dark Lord had done this to us, while in fact it was my _father."_ Harry took a step closer, unsure what to do. He wrapped an arm around the man, pulling him against his body to comfort him.

"Whatever he tried to do, he didn't succeed. I'm starting to remember things, and we're getting along just fine, aren't we?" Harry tried.

"You're remembering things? That's impossible." Malfoy turned a little to send the owl off and Harry's arm slid off his back.

"But it's true. I have these dreams about… us and about Lucius and I know they're my memories." A smirk appeared on Malfoy's face, drowning out the worries about his father.

"About us?" he asked suggestively. He wiggled his eyebrows, a half-grin on his face.

"Malfoy!" Harry reprimanded. Malfoy let his shoulders hang and pouted.

"But still, Potter. It's impossible. Once a Forgetfullness Charm is cast, you cannot get your memory back unless the caster is prepared to undo it."

"Well, spells always had a strange effect on me," harry shrugged. "I resisted the Imperius curse several times in my fourth year. Moody was very impressed. Or at least Barty Crouch Junior." Harry looked up at Malfoy again. The man was looking at him with an admiring look in his eyes and Harry averted his gaze, flustered.

"You really are special, Potter." Harry waved the comment away. "But do tell me about those dreams. What exactly are they about?" Harry's face turned crimson.

"Just send your bloody letter, Malfoy!"

* * *

It was still early when Harry arrived at the Viaduct. He'd been dreaming about Malfoy, yet again and hadn't been able to go back to sleep. He started lifting rocks without magic. He felt like doing a little exercise. If he kept his body busy, his mind would calm down as well. After a while his muscles started burning. Harry continued, enjoying the pain as he forced himself through his limits.

"Having a little exercise?" Malfoy asked. Surprised, Harry turned around. "Let me guess, you couldn't sleep. Don't you ever sleep, Potter?"

"I… er… I just felt like starting early today." Malfoy's grin was contagious and Harry returned it. "Why aren't you asleep anymore?"

"The early bird gets the worm, Potter," Malfoy joked. Harry chuckled, then pulled a serious face.

"Are you stalking me, Malfoy?" Harry got closer to the blonde. The man seemed very relaxed in Harry's presence. Harry jumped forward, attacking Malfoy with a fury of tickles. The Slytherin fell over on his butt, but Harry didn't let him go. He continued tickling the blonde, his laugh resounding through the chilly morning.

"I didn't know you were ticklish, Malfoy," Harry giggled. He earned a half-laugh half-growl from the blonde. He tried to push Harry off, but thanks to his Quidditch skills the Gryffindor was faster. Malfoy's hands pushed against Harry's shoulder, lowered to his belly then accidentally brushed past his trousers. Harry froze, the gesture sent a hot wave down his spine. His hesitation gave Malfoy the time to get up and jump on top of Harry. He pinned him to the ground with his hips and looked down in triumph.

His weight felt comfortable on Harry's hips. The pleasurable feeling in his abdomen grew. Harry tried to push the blonde off, but Malfoy was surprisingly strong.

"Not so fast, Potter. You won't get away with this." Malfoy's eyes sparkled with silver when he started tickling Harry back. Harry wriggled underneath Malfoy, but couldn't escape Malfoy's slender fingers. He laughed out loud until it came too much.

"Please! Stop, I can't breathe! I'm begging you," Harry moaned. Malfoy paused, looking at Harry thoughtfully.

"Okay. But, what do I get in return?" Harry tensed. He felt a warm tug around his boxers and goosebumps appeared on his skin.

"What did you have in mind?" Harry breathed. Harry looked up at Malfoy's pink lips. Malfoy licked them slowly, leaning forward.

"We could start with an embrace." Harry nodded, wrapping his arms around Malfoy's torso. The blonde leaned in, his fragrance overwhelming Harry with memories. He held the man tight, digging his nails into Malfoy's back. This felt too good. Their arms let go again. Malfoy got up and Harry straightened his clothes and got up as well.

"Can we start?" Hermione asked. Harry spinned around, his eyes as big as saucers.

"How long have you been standing here?" he exclaimed.

"Not long. I didn't want to interrupt." She gave him a meaningful look and then turned around to continue where Harry had been working before. Harry looked at Malfoy, who offered him a small smile and started helping Hermione.

Harry couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. Somehow, it had nothing to do with the fact that Hermione had interrupted them. Had he wanted Malfoy to kiss him? That made absolutely no sense. The embrace had felt so familiar. So intense. Harry shook his head. He looked at Malfoy one last time and then started working as well. He needed to banish the blonde from his thoughts.

And the pink lips.

**To be continued…  
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	8. Chapter 8: Painful

**I'm so sorry! I'm such a bad person I know I haven't been updating this story. I just got stuck in it. And life's been so hectic with school and before I knew it we're two months later. **

**This is only a short piece, but I hope you like it. I'll try to continue as soon as possible. Enjoy.**

Chapter 8  
Painful

"_You do care. You care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it."  
-Albus Dumbledore-_

Draco exited the Entrance Hall heading for the stairs at the end of the courtyard. Potter had asked him to meet in the Boathouse after dinner. Most of the students were still at the Great Hall, but Draco didn't want to be late. He wondered what was so important.

A few days ago, Potter had told him he started remembering things. A tiny sprout of hope started growing in Draco's chest, but he quickly shook his head. Having Potter hate him had been hard enough. He didn't need another heartbreak. All he wanted was to hold the man close, as if nothing had happened since the War. Kiss him. Make love to him.

But those things were off limits. Yes, Draco understood it was difficult for Potter. His friends felt sorry for him, Draco tried to show understanding – but nobody cared about him. How was he holding up? Nobody cared to ask. And the worst part was that his father had caused all of this. The man his mother had fallen in love with.

Draco had decided not to tell his mother about it. She would be devastated. Even though she hadn't seen Potter very often, she'd grown very fond of him. She wouldn't admit it if he asked, but Draco knew she liked Potter. It had been hard on her to hear from Potter's condition. He could not tell her it had been her own husband who'd caused this misery.

Despite all that, Draco wasn't complaining. He loved the way things were turning out. He'd had a great time with Potter at Hogsmeade. To be honest, he'd never dreamed all of this could happen… again. But it was. Would it be wishful thinking if Draco hoped they would be together one day?

Draco descended the stairs, leading to the Boathouse. He couldn't see if Potter was already there. Since the raven-haired man had still been at the Gryffindor Table when Draco left, he figured he wouldn't be there already. Maybe if the Gryffindor had found a secret passage, he would. Potter was full of mysteries. He glanced through the dark window, but couldn't see anyone. He heard hurried footsteps behind him and turned around. No secret passages.

"Hi, Potter. Couldn't excuse yourself from the table?" Draco offered the man a crooked smile and waited for him to catch up.

"No. If you hadn't left so _subtly_ I would've been here ages ago."

"I sense a hint of sarcasm. Is a certain someone scared his friends will find out he asked me on a date?" Draco joked. Potter's face turned crimson and he quickly blurted out a defence.

"It's not a date, Malfoy. I just wanted you to come here." Draco smiled. Potter's neck was turning red as well and gave away his embarrassment. It felt just like before. Potter had tried his hardest to hide their love from his friends, but eventually the truth always won. The Weasel had been angry – furious to be more exact – but apart from that, everything had turned out okay.

"Well then, spit it out." Potter led the way inside. They both sat down on the first step of the stairs leading to the water.

"You were very close to Snape, weren't you?" Potter said. His tone was calm, no sign of mockery present.

"Yes, he was my Godfather, Potter. You know he risked his life trying to save me. He made the unbreakable Vow to my mother. I couldn't do the task, remember? That's what got him killed in the end." Draco closed his eyes. Was this why Potter had brought him here? To talk about Severus' death? Draco swallowed back a sigh and looked at Potter.

"It's just. I want you to know that Snape was murdered by Voldemort. I saw it happening. I – I couldn't do anything I just watched. Voldemort wanted the Elder wand. Since he had killed Dumbledore, Voldemort figured it must still be loyal to Snape. Nagini attacked him. There was blood everywhere. The worst part was that Snape didn't even have the Elder wand. You did. You disarmed Dumbledore on the Astronomy Tower. Then I disarmed you at the Manor. So I had the Elder wand in the end." Potter trailed off, trying to catch Draco's eye.

"He died here?" Draco whispered. "That's terrible." A sad vail hung over the blonde's face. He wondered why Potter had told him that.

"I know. He did so much for me and I didn't even know until he died." Draco eyed the Gryffindor with sympathy.

"He didn't want to put you in danger, Potter. Being linked to me was dangerous enough as it was. But he knew how we felt about each other."

"He did?" The surprise in Potter's voice made Draco frown.

"He was my godfather, Potter. Of course he knew, you moron. He didn't question my taste though," Draco added, wiggling his eyebrows. Potter looked surprised. "What?" Draco asked.

"Why did he approve of me?"

"I don't know. You're handsome, brave, smart when you want to, inventive, famous …"

"Seriously?" Potter asked. He'd made a grumbling sound upon hearing the word famous, but apart from that he remained silent.

"No, I was just kidding. He's always liked you, you know. He never showed it to you, but he always cared about you." Draco looked around. The water made a calming sound. "Was that why you wanted me to come here? To talk about Severus?"

"Yes and no. I just felt like you should know what really happened. He didn't try to run. He was the most courageous man I've ever seen. He knew what was coming and, … It was no way to die, Malfoy." Draco looked up at Potter. There were tears shining in his green eyes.

Draco leaned in closer, wrapping his arms around Potter's broad shoulders. His sweet scent hung around him, and Draco wanted to drink in all of it. He didn't want to let go of the man, ever again, but he knew he had no choice. If he pushed the man now, Potter would crawl back in his shell and never come out again. Potter's strong hands squeezed his back, a soft moan escaped Draco's mouth.

"I want you back so badly, Potter," he whispered, his words feeling hot against Potter's shoulder.

"Do you think I'll ever get my memories back?"

"I don't know," Draco admitted. "But we could always make new ones." Potter shot him a glare that would normally have made him run off like a scared chicken but he faced the man, a challenging look in his eyes. "Fuck it, Potter. Honestly, sometimes I really don't care whether you get our memories back. I just want _you _back."

Potter looked at him surprised, then stared into the rippling water. "I- I'm sorry, Malfoy. I'm not ready for this." With those words, the boy left the Boathouse and Draco was alone. The gnawing feeling in his stomach increased, and he struck at the water.

"Fuck YOU, Lucius! Couldn't you mess with someone else's life?!" Tears streamed down the blonde's cheeks and he hugged his legs to his chest. He couldn't wait for Potter to return. It was too painful.

After a while, Draco got up, wiped his tears away and exited the boathouse. He had to get Potter out of his head. They were in the past now, and there was no way it would ever be the same. The best thing to do now was to forget all about it.

Just like Potter.

**To be continued**…


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